Highway to Hell
by snb29
Summary: Complete Fanfic, 15 chapters, will be released approx. once a week. This started out with me thinking "what would happen if Sam, Dean, Cas and Crowley went on a road trip? That would be hilarious!" and has somehow resulted in a 41,000 (ish) word fanfic... oops! Set during Season 10 as will become obvious as you read. Mild Destiel hints (I couldn't help myself).
1. Chapter 1

Back In The Saddle

"Why'd it have to be frigging witches?" Dean whined. "I thought this was gonna be a nice, simple vengeful spirit deal. I'd have stayed in the bunker with Cas doing research if I'd known, let you deal with the touchy-feely crap."  
"Touchy-feely crap? Dean, she just found out not only that her dad killed her mum, but that her boyfriend was sleeping with her sister. I think she's allowed to flip out a bit."  
Dean pulled a couple of beers out the trunk and passed one to Sam. "Flip out, yeah. Have a one-night stand, get drunk. Don't start putting hexbags together and killing people."

Sam sighed. "Yeah, I think she's got that now." he took a sip of his beer. "Good to get out of the bunker for a change though."  
"Yeah." Dean smiled. "And hunting something that isn't angels or demons."  
"Hello boys!"

Sam dumped his beer on the car, grabbed the devil's trap handcuffs out of his pockets, turned, and snapped them on Crowley's wrists.

Crowley raised an eyebrow. "Fast reflexes, moose. Were you expecting me?"

Sam glared. "What do you want, Crowley?"  
"I don't want anything." Crowley replied, obviously trying to sound innocent. "I do, however, have some information which could be useful to you."

"Out with it, Crowley, before I decide you're more useful dead than alive." Dean said, continuing to lean against the impala and drink his beer.

"I'm hurt, squirrel. By the way, is that the first blade in your pocket, or-"  
"I'm not pleased to see you." he turned to Sam. "Watch him. I'm calling Cas, I want him here to help deal with whatever this son of a bitch has shown up to get us to deal with."

He walked off, leaving Sam scowling at Crowley who just smirked back. Why the fuck was he here? What demonic mess did he want them to clean up for him this time? For the King of Hell, he was doing a piss-poor job of running the place. Still, at least now they had an excuse to get Cas' head out of the books for a bit. The guy was doing his head in searching constantly for a way to reopen the pearly gates. It was mainly the knowledge that while he was sleeping, Cas was getting the job done. It made him feel weird - having someone else in charge of a hunt. It'd be good for Cas to have some time out, even if it was because of Crowley. Dean pulled out his phone and went to the list of recent calls. Cas' number was there right under Sam's, and he pressed dial. It rang for a bit, then Cas answered.

"Hello Dean."

For a second Dean wondered how Cas knew it was him - was he spying on them again? Then he remembered caller i.d. "Hey Cas. We were hoping you could head over and give us a hand. Crowley's showed up, claims he's got -" he paused, feeling the weird sensation of someone watching him, and turned to see Cas right behind him.

The two of them stared at each other for a bit, before Dean hung up the phone. Cas copied him.

"He claims he's got some intel for us." Dean said awkwardly. "I thought your wings were gone, or broken or whatever."  
Cas kept looking at him. "I found a spell to restore my grace. It's not perfect, but it's got my wings back, at least for now." he grinned.

Dean smiled. "That's great." he hesitated. "How did you know where we were?"

Cas looked down guiltily. He appeared to be thinking of what to say, but was saved by Sam clearing his throat. Cas and Dean looked at him.

"Are you done?" Sam asked. "Can we get on with the job?"  
Dean scowled at Crowley, who was looking knowingly at him and Cas. "If there even is a job. I still think just killing him now is a decent plan."  
Crowley narrowed his eyes. "If you don't want my information, kill me. However, if you want to stop the army of demons from getting out of Hell, you need me."

"What? Dean looked at the demon, confused. "You want us to stop a load of demons getting out of Hell?" he raised his eyebrows. "That makes no sense."  
"Nope." Sam agreed.  
"You think I want chaos?"  
"Yes." Cas answered, pointing out the obvious and earning a scowl from Crowley.

Dean rolled his eyes. If Crowley's plan was to distract them, he was succeeding. Cas looked like he was about to lose his temper and start beating Crowley to a pulp for keeping him from his search for the pearly gates. He put a hand on his shoulder and looked at Crowley.

"It's very simple. You have three options. Option one, you tell us what you know, all of it, and we decide whether or not to help you. Option two, we chuck you in the trunk, take you back to the bunker and lock you back in our dungeon. Option three, my personal favourite, we stab you in the face."  
"Well…" Crowley considered. "I have no immediate desire to return to your less than delightful jail cell. I also happen to have a vested interest in keeping my face. Besides, the entire reason I came here was to tell you what's going on!"  
Sam raised an eyebrow. "Pretty sure you came here to give us a small amount of information and manipulate us into doing your dirty work."  
Crowley looked at him. "Isn't that what I said?" he held up his hands, smirking at the expression on Sam's face. "Okay, okay. After we killed Abaddon -"

"-We?" Dean protested.

Crowley ignored him. "-I assumed Hell would settle down. The problem is, it turns out some of Abaddon's fiercest supporters still aren't keen on my rule. One of them, according to my sources, managed to find a Devil's gate, and is planning on opening the gates of Hell and letting everyone out. Now, while this is bad for me, as I'll potentially lose support and control, I'm sure you'll agree that the real issue is to the humans up top."  
Cas glared at him suspiciously. "Why do you care about the humans on earth?"  
Crowley laughed. "Oh, I don't. I just needed a way to get tweedle-dum and tweedle-dee to help me out. The gate's warded, I can't get in to protect it."  
Dean looked at Sam and Cas. Crowley had admitted outright that he was manipulating them. He was the King of Hell. They shouldn't even be considering working with him. But if he was telling the truth… They were still dealing with the demons that had been let out last time a gate got opened, and it had only been open for a few minutes. If this demon got someone to open the gate for him and no one stopped it, who knew how many hellspawn would get out? Could they take that risk?  
"Dean, we can't really be considering this. It's Crowley. There's always a plan. There are plans within plans. Plans within plans within plans. He'll be using us somehow."

"Yeah, Sam, like that thought hadn't occurred to me. But if there's any truth to this…"  
"Dean's right." Cas said solemnly. "No matter the advantages to Crowley, if he's even partially telling the truth then we're all in danger. As is the rest of the planet. At the very least we need to check out this Devil's gate." he took a few paces towards Crowley, stopping just out of arm's reach. "Tell us where it is."  
"What's the magic word?"  
There was a long pause, before Cas turned around, looking at the Winchesters with a mystified expression.

"I don't understand." he said, baffled. "Why do I need to say an incantation?"  
Dean gave him the mother of all eye rolls. "He means 'please', you big dork. At least he better do."  
"It's in New York."  
Sam considered this. "City or state?"  
Crowley gave a twisted smile. "If I tell you, what incentive do you have not to - what was it, squirrel? Oh yes. Stab me in the face. Sorry boys, you're not getting it that easy. I'll make you a deal... The location of the Devil's gate for the right to ride along without being murdered. Soon as we're there and you take these handcuffs off, we can all go back to hating each other like normal. Agreed?"  
"No small print?" Sam checked. "No 'oops, I accidentally wrote in a clause giving me your souls and denying you the use of your legs'?"

"Would I do that?"  
"Yes." was the unanimous response.

Crowley sighed. "Fine. Trust me, don't trust me. You'll be the ones with an angry horde of demons on your hands in a few days. All I'm asking is to tag along for the journey. Besides, if I'm lying, you've already got me chained up. What have you got to lose?"

"Nothing I'd lament being rid of." Cas growled.

There was a long pause, before Sam spoke up.

"Was that a-?"  
"-Pirates of the Caribbean reference? Yeah. I made him take some time out from the books and watch the first one while you were out hunting that rugaru the other week." Dean smiled. "I think he enjoyed it."  
"Right…" Crowley said slowly. "Well, putting aside your cosy nights in with the little angel…" Dean started forward, but Cas put out a hand to stop him. "We're heading for Central Park. If you three are still interested."  
Cas put his hands out, and would have flown them there, but Dean jumped back.

"Nooo way, Cas. If we're going, we're doing it like any other job. We're taking the car."  
"It would be faster to fly."  
"Sure. But there's a couple of issues. Like, how are you going to fly three of us there at once? Besides, how much do you know about this spell you've found? I don't want you burning your grace out over this." he looked Cas in the eye, daring him to disagree.

Cas stared back at him for a while, trying to think of a counter-argument Dean would accept. The fact was, right now he felt fine. As Dean would say, he'd 'got his mojo back'. But problematically, the spell book he'd found had warned that if too much angelic power was used, the spell would stop working immediately and he'd be back at square one, with borrowed grace burning him out from the inside. It had also failed to specify how much angelic power was too much. He'd proved that flying himself around wasn't overdoing it, but apart from that, he had no idea. Not that he'd admit that to Dean. He'd only worry, and probably refuse to let him do anything useful.

"It's not up to you to decide what or who I'll burn myself out for, Dean."  
"Personally, I don't want you burning out over anything! I don't want you dead!" Dean glared at Cas, who looked down at the floor.

Crowley cleared his throat. "Very touching. How about we get going? I'd call shotgun, but-"

"-Get in the back, Crowley." Dean ordered moodily. "Cas, will you keep an eye on him?"

Cas sighed deeply. "Of course, Dean."  
The two of them managed to get into the car without too much in the way of arguments or physical violence. Dean considered yelling at Crowley for the sneaky kick in the shins he'd spotted, but decided that (all things considered) Cas was perfectly capable of dealing with that himself.

"Hey Dean."  
"Yeah, Sammy?" Dean looked at his brother, who seemed to be trying not to laugh.

"Two hunters, an angel and the King of Hell get into a car…" he paused. Dean wondered where the hell he was going with the joke. Just when he thought Sam had forgotten the punchline, he spoke up. "How much unresolved sexual tension is there?"  
"Screw you."  
Sam couldn't help laughing, despite the murderous look on Dean's face. Honestly, that joke was worth any punches Dean threw at him. The soulful looks, the lack of personal space or boundaries, the 'profound bond'... Add to that how defensive Dean was, well, it was just funny to point out.

"Hey thing one," Crowley said, leaning out of the car window and looking at Dean, "what's with the sour face?" he ignored Dean's evil stare and instead leaned out far enough to catch Sam's eye. "Come on, don't keep it to yourselves… I always enjoy a joke at someone else's expense."  
"Get your head back in the car before I cut it off." Dean said hotly, narrowing his eyes first at Crowley, who ducked back into the car, and then at Sam. Sam just winked at him and got into the passenger seat. Dean swore under his breath. It was going to be a very long car ride. And it would be a miracle if they all made it there alive.


	2. Chapter 2

Be Quick Or Be Dead

Surprisingly, there was relative peace for at least fifteen minutes. This was probably due mainly to the fact that Dean had grabbed a mixtape of his favourite Zeppelin songs and cranked up the volume to the point where he could hardly hear himself singing along. Occasional glances in the rearview mirror showed Crowley singing too, while Cas frowned, concentrating on something. Dean looked over at Sam, who was playing air guitar in the passenger seat happily.

The tensions started showing when Dean turned the tape over to the other side. Taking advantage of the brief gap in the the noise levels, Crowley turned to Cas.

"Not a big fan of Zeppelin, angel? I'm surprised Dean's still friends with you."  
Cas glared at the demon sat next to him. "I may have spent the last few millennia watching over humanity, but I have had more productive things to do than memorise song lyrics." he glanced at Dean and gave a small smile. "Though I have learnt some in the few years that I've been walking the earth."  
Dean decided to interrupt the argument by pushing the cassette back in and turning the volume up even louder. At first everything went back to the way it had been before Crowley had tried teasing Cas...but then Stairway to Heaven came on. Crowley stopped singing, and instead folded his arms and scowled at Cas who was humming along and attempted to join in by the second chorus. Dean looked across at Sam, who'd given up trying to sing because he was laughing too much. Dean smirked, but kept singing along, keeping Cas company. Of all the songs for him to have memorised… Typical Cas.

The tape ended, and there was a short pause before Dean spoke up. "Sammy, can you grab one of my AC-DC tapes out and stick it on?"

Crowley groaned from the back seat. "Is classic rock all you have? Really? Well no wonder you're both in such a foul mood all the time, if this is what you're listening to."  
"Driver picks the music, douchebags shut the hell up." Dean retorted, not bothering to look back.

"Doesn't shotgun normally pick the music?" Crowley asked, leaning forward.

Dean smiled. "Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole."  
Crowley raised his eyebrows. "And you're okay with this, moose?"

Sam sighed. Honestly? He had to admit that he'd appreciate a bit more variety in what music got played in the impala. Sure, there were times when they put the radio on, so got something that wasn't classic rock. But if it were his car, the music choice would be very different. Still, he couldn't agree. There was no way he was siding with Crowley over Dean. So there was really only one response he could give: "Shut up, Crowley."  
Crowley wasn't giving in. "What about dear old Castiel?"

Cas turned his head to glare at him. "Bite me."  
"No," the demon insisted, "I'm serious! I mean, from all the evidence you don't appear to consider him a douchebag, and he isn't sitting in shotgun…"  
Dean looked back at the pair of them, obviously spoiling for a fight. "Cas needs educating. He said it himself."  
Crowley rolled his eyes at back of Dean's head before refolding his arms sulkily and looking out of the car window. "Are we nearly there yet?"  
"Can it, Crowley." Sam responded in a bored tone. "What are you, five?"  
"I need to use the lavatory."  
"You're a demon." Dean pointed out.

"So?"  
"So you didn't need to pee when we had you locked in our bunker for weeks." Sam turned round in his seat to look at Crowley.

"You didn't give me food or water!" Crowley exclaimed. "Your stupid handcuffs are reducing my demonic power to deal with the rather excellent bottle of wine I consumed over lunch before coming to see you. It's an entirely different scenario."  
Dean tried to process that idea, but gave up. "That makes no sense." he glanced back. "Cas?"

Cas looked at Crowley suspiciously. "It's not impossible." he allowed.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence." Crowley said, sounding highly sarcastic. "Now, can we pull over?"  
"There's a gas station in a few miles. Can't you hold it?" Dean asked, giving up and accepting that a toilet break was happening.

"I'd love to, squirrel, but the literary agent I'm wearing has a ridiculously weak bladder." he warned. "So unless you'd prefer me to relieve myself on the backseat of your beloved car…"  
"Do it and you die!" Dean spotted a layby up ahead and swerved sharply. The car had only just screeched to a halt when he jumped out, opened the door and physically dragged Crowley from the car. Sam's head swivelled, following the sound of Crowley's strongly worded complaints about being manhandled. Dean ignored Crowley's moans and dragged him round the car to the grass verge. He stopped short at the sight of Cas already standing there, eyes narrowed. Crowley looked between the two of them and groaned.

"Can you two stop with the bloody staring contests? Get back in the car, feathers."

Cas folded his arms. "No." he replied simply. "I don't trust you."  
Crowley looked at him for a second, then pulled his arm away from Dean. "Fine. If you won't get back in the car, I will."  
"You said you were desperate!" exclaimed Dean, grabbing Crowley's wrist.

"Yes. I did. But the idea of relieving of myself with an angel watching," he shot Cas a look of annoyance, "has quite taken away my need."  
"You're kidding." Sam leaned his head out of the window. "You said you were going to take a leak in the back seat, and now suddenly you're fine. I'm not buying it."  
"Me either."  
"It's not a case of what you're buying." Crowley snapped, yanking his arm away from Dean again and walking back towards the impala. "It's simply that the desperate urge for the toilet has, for now, left me. Now, can we get back in the car?" he opened the door and looked at Dean and Cas, both standing looking confused. "Well? Aren't we in something of a hurry?"  
Dean put his hands in his pockets, and saw Cas do the same out of the corner of his eye. No one went from needing the loo that much to being fine in the space of two minutes, not without actually peeing. The guy had obviously been faking. But why? So far he hadn't tried to escape. All he'd done was delay them, and he was the one that had put them on the case in the first place! None of it made any sense.

"I'm not getting back in the car until you tell us what this is really about." Dean stated. "You came and found us, remember? Now you're moaning about the music, and coming up with crappy excuses to delay. It's almost like you want this Devil's gate opened. But that doesn't make any sense either, because then, why would you have told us about it in the first place?"

"It's almost certainly a trap." Cas said in a matter-of-fact tone. "If you had any sense, Dean, you'd drive as fast as you can in the opposite direction."

Dean smirked. "Come on, Cas. When have you ever known me to show a lick of sense?"  
"I'm glad you find this so amusing."  
"Amusing? No…" Dean replied, continuing to look at Cas as he walked round the car to get back in. "Ok, maybe a bit. Besides, I've got a case, got my car, got my tunes…" he glanced at Crowley, who'd groaned slightly at his words and got back into the car, then looked back at Cas. "So what if there's some demon army heading for us. Right now, everything's pretty good."

Cas put his head on one side, confused. "I'm not sure I understand your definition of good. If Crowley is, for some reason, telling the truth, and we don't make it in time to stop the gate opening-"  
"-I know."  
"Then tell me, Dean, how is it good? Surely it makes logical sense for me to get us there faster."  
"We're not having this discussion." Dean got in the car and glanced in the rearview mirror. Cas was already in the back seat next to Crowley, buckling up, looking at him with a sour expression. Dean sighed. How was he supposed to explain it to the little nerd? Whatever he said, Cas was going to think that he didn't want his help. That wasn't it, not at all. Did he really think that he, Dean, hadn't searched every book in the bunker, called every contact they had, trying to find a way to restore his grace? They'd both looked in the same books. Dean knew exactly what spell the stupid, stubborn angel had used the minute he was out of sight - he'd hidden that book in his room for a reason. He'd thought he'd found the answer when he first found it, thought he'd found a way to get Cas fixed once and for all. But then he'd read the small print and discovered the risks - sure it'd give Cas back his angel batteries, but use them too much and he'd be fried for good. Of course he was happy Cas had his wings back. But there was no way he'd let Cas risk burning out for them, especially now, when it wasn't even necessary. He'd rather get there late, after the gates of Hell had opened and there were demons left, right and centre, than take a chance with Cas' life.

"Are you two busy emoting, or are we going to continue driving?"  
Dean ignored Crowley's snide question, pressed play on the car stereo and pulled out onto the highway, AC-DC blaring. At first both Crowley and Cas sat there in sullen silence, arms folded. After a couple of songs, Dean gave up looking back at them and started singing along instead. It was Sam who first noticed that all was not well in the back of the impala, as it took some time for Cas to become frustrated enough to shout over the noise of the music. By the time Dean turned his head round to look back, Cas had his angel blade out, but Crowley was laughing despite this.

"Cas, you have to put the blade away." Sam insisted.

"He was holding a sign out of the window."  
Dean tried to concentrate on the road, but couldn't resist asking: "What did it say?"

"It says 'help, I'm being kidnapped'." Crowley informed him, laughing. "It's still in the back window."  
Cas undid his seatbelt and slid closer to Crowley, still threatening him with the blade.

Sam turned round in his seat and grabbed Cas' trenchcoat. "Cas, we need him! Please, just put the blade away!" Sam shouted loudly as Highway to Hell started playing.

"I'll put the blade away when he takes that sign down." Cas argued, looking at Crowley with intense dislike. "Someone could see it."  
"Someone could see you holding a giant fucking knife!" Sam pointed out, trying to pull Cas away from Crowley. "Come on Cas, put it away before someone other than Crowley gets hurt!"

"Cas, Sam's right." said Dean, turning the music down briefly. "Put the blade away." He looked in the rearview mirror to make sure Cas did so, then spoke to Crowley. "Take the sign out of the window, or I'll stop the car and stab you myself."  
Dean waited, one eye on the road, the other watching the scene unfolding in the rearview mirror. At first it looked like breaking into a scuffle again, as Crowley refused to move and Cas leaned towards him threateningly. But after a minute or two's stalemate, Crowley rolled his eyes, reached his hands back, and grabbed the piece of paper.

"There." he glared at Cas, eyebrows raised. "Happy now, Tinkerbell?"  
Sam looked across at Dean and mouthed "Tinkerbell?"

Dean shrugged. "Crowley." he advised. "Get some better insults."

"Yes, because you and sasquatch are just masters when it comes to snappy oneliners."

Sam turned the music up, earning an approving nod from Dean as it very effectively stopped them from having to listen to anything further Crowley had to say on the topic. Instead, the Winchesters started singing along again, Sam doing the air guitar solos and Dean drumming on the steering wheel. Their enthusiasm managed to infect Cas fairly quickly, as he stopped staring at Dean, eyes narrowed, and started to smile and join in singing or humming along with any songs he recognised. Crowley was quiet, staring out the window and fiddling with his handcuffs.

"Are we nearly there yet?" he whined.

Cas glared at Crowley and considered pulling out his blade. Sam and Dean simply ignored the demon.

Crowley responded by speaking more loudly. "I said, are we nearly there yet? I need the toilet."  
Dean stopped the music. "Again? You're joking."  
"I believe you said something about a gas station."  
Dean swore. "We passed it five minutes ago. The next one isn't for fifty or so miles!"  
"Then turn around."

"No. You're lying, just like last time."  
Crowley sighed patronisingly. "I wasn't lying. Merely overestimating my ability to urinate in front of present company." he gave Cas a sidelong look.

"Well, I'm not going back. I can pull over at the side of the road, where we'll have the same problem as last time, or you can wait and remind me before the next gas station."  
Cas leaned forward to talk to Dean. "I could take him back, meet you further down the road."

"No." Dean ordered. He realised Cas was about to argue, and interrupted. "I'm not having him out of my sight."

There was a pause, before the three passengers began speaking simultaneously.

"Why squirrel, I'm flattered."  
"Come on Dean, they'd be gone like ten minutes."  
"Is it just him you don't trust?"  
Dean almost slammed the brakes on. How the hell could Cas think that? Of course he trusted him, trusted him with his life. He just didn't trust Crowley, and didn't want Cas risking himself over a toilet break. Or at all, to be completely honest. Still, he completely trusted Cas, especially to keep an eye on Crowley while he used the freaking toilet. He just didn't completely trust him to take care of himself. He had a long history of not letting them know when he was in trouble. Still, he wasn't going to discuss it in the car with Crowley and Sam there. Especially Crowley - he'd take advantage of any weakness, and if they admitted that maybe Cas' mojo wasn't as fixed as they'd have him believe… No. They weren't going to talk about it.

"I bet you've got a gang of demons at every gas station between here and the big apple, Crowley. We all go together, or we don't go at all. So like I said, it's the side of the road, or the next gas station."

"Is he always this stubborn?" Crowley caught Sam's eye.

Sam sighed. "Have you met him?" was all he said in response, though what Crowley had said got him thinking. Yes, Dean was always stubborn, but this was pig-headed even from him. It wasn't that his excuses didn't make sense - the idea of Crowley stationing demons along the road to help him escape was in no way far-fetched - it was simply that they felt like excuses, rather than reasons. Was there something Dean wasn't telling him?

"Well? Do you want me to stop or not?" Dean asked Crowley irritably.

Crowley leaned back in his seat, scowling at the back of Dean's head. "I think I'll manage to wait."

Dean managed to restrain himself from turning round and attempting to strangle Crowley. He was the most unbearably annoying person he'd ever met, even accounting for him being a demon. Instead, he turned the music back up, switched up a gear, and continued on the highway with the plan to completely ignore Crowley for the next fifty miles. What he found harder to ignore was the expression on Cas' face, a mixture of disappointment and confusion. Dean swore internally. Why was it that Cas never understood? It wasn't that he didn't think he was capable. It was simply that he couldn't handle it if he got hurt. Cas was family, just as much as Sam.

Between distrusting looks coming his way from Sam, and having to see Cas' facial expression every time he looked in the rearview mirror, it wasn't exactly the most relaxing road trip Dean had ever taken. Still, he managed to cope with it until Crowley started kicking the back of his chair.

"Stop it." he warned.

Crowley kicked the seat again. "I'm sorry, stop what?"  
"Damnit Crowley!"  
Crowley simply smirked and kicked the back of Dean's seat again. For the second time in under two hours, Cas pulled out his angel blade and held it to Crowley's throat.

"Woah, steady on Inspector Gadget!"  
"Cas. We've talked about this."  
"He was kicking the back of your chair."  
"Yes. I noticed. And if he does it again, I'll stop the car and we can take it in turns to beat him up. But like Sam said, we need him to help find this Devil's gate."  
"If there is one." Sam pointed out.

"Thanks." Dean replied sarcastically. "That's really helpful, Sam. Because we just weren't sure enough that we're being led into a trap."  
"I did point that out some miles ago." Cas commented, not removing his blade from Crowley's neck.

Crowley leaned back slightly away from the angel blade. "I find this all highly offensive. I may be the King of Hell, but I do possess some level of integrity. I told you I'd lead you to the Devil's gate, and I will. But only if you call off your pet angel." he paused, but neither Dean nor Sam said anything, and Cas simply moved his hand so that the blade was once again resting on Crowley's neck. "All I did was kick his chair a bit! It was a joke!"  
"It could potentially have caused a car accident."  
"At least that would have put an end to this train wreck of a journey." muttered Sam.

Dean smirked. He was glad Sam could see the funny side of this situation even if Cas and Crowley weren't helping the in-car stress levels. Still, he needed to sort it out. They couldn't do the whole journey with this level of tension.

"Cas, I need you to put the blade away, for now at least."  
"Dean-"  
"-If he kicks me again, you can punch him. And if it turns out he's been lying to us, you can have first dibs on killing him. But right now, like you said at the start, we need him. We can't risk another Devil's gate opening."  
Cas looked at Crowley with distaste, but did as Dean asked. Crowley responded by sticking his tongue out. Unluckily for him, Dean noticed.

"This is your last warning, Crowley. Annoy me once more and you go in the trunk."

Crowley rolled his eyes, saying nothing.

"Have you got that?"  
The demon groaned quietly "Received and understood, oh glorious leader." he informed Dean in a sardonic tone.

Dean considered putting him in the trunk of the impala just for that, but spotted a sign saying it was only five miles to their next stop and decided that for now he'd leave things as they stood. It was only a few minutes until they'd all be getting out of the care anyway.. There was no point stopping now. A much better plan, in Dean's view, was to turn up the volume and listen to another Iron Maiden song.


	3. Chapter 3

American Pie

They were soon pulling off the highway, managing not to argue for five minutes. Dean stopped the impala in the parking lot. There was a gas station, and a small diner advertising the 'best apple pie in the state'. Dean grinned. His day had just improved massively. Screw getting to New York as quickly as possible. He'd spent the last day and a half looking for a ghost, only for it to turn out to be a witch. He hadn't slept more than about 2 hours in the last 36, and all he'd eaten was one (somewhat disappointing) burger. He needed coffee, and pie, and to get out of the car. For once, he was with Cas - it felt pretty confining.

"Right, everybody out."

"What, we're all getting out? I assumed this was a quick pitstop for Crowley."  
"We're stopping here for a bit. I need food."

Sam spotted the sign in the window and laughed. "By food, I assume you mean pie."  
"I'm not sure we should be stopping here. We should be trying to get to New York as soon as possible."  
Dean sighed. "Yes, we should. But what I need is a few hours sleep and a decent meal. Failing that, I'll take coffee and pie. You want anything?"  
"I don't need to eat, Dean."  
Dean turned round in his seat to look at Cas. "I know. But do you want anything?"  
"I'd kill for a half-decent coffee."  
"Can it, Crowley." Dean didn't bother looking away from Cas.

Cas smiled slowly, meeting Dean's eyes. "A coffee would be nice."  
Crowley gagged. "How do you survive being around them, Samantha? It's just sickening."  
Dean ignored him and turned to Sam. "So that's three coffees, a slice of pie, and whatever you want. Cas and I'll take Crowley to the little demons' room and meet you at a table."  
"Call me if he tries anything."  
Dean rolled his eyes. "Sammy, we'll be literally like ten feet away. Besides, I think between us Cas and I can handle one punkass demon."

"I resent that."  
Again, Dean ignored him. Instead he got out of the car and opened the door for Crowley to get out. Cas appeared next to him as Crowley emerged, scowling, from the car. Crowley took one look at the small smile on Cas' face and Dean's raised eyebrow and swore.

"I've changed my mind. I'm not going anywhere with you two. Can't I stay with moose?"  
Dean laughed. "Nice try. See you in the diner, Sam."  
He, Cas and Crowley started walking towards the toilet block, a small building on the far side of the diner. Dean was somewhat surprised by the fact that Crowley didn't try anything on the way, but meeting Cas' eyes he knew that he wasn't the only one who was still suspicious. Sure he hadn't tried anything yet. But he still could. They stopped outside the toilet and Dean grabbed Crowley's jacket to stop him from walking straight in.

"Right. Crowley, you wait out here with me while Cas checks out the restroom. Make sure there's no hexbags, demons, alternative exits…"

Crowley looked sulky, but did as Dean said. It didn't take Cas long to go in, scope out the small toilet block and reappear. Typically, he said nothing.

"Well?"  
"I checked it out."  
Dean waited, but Cas didn't say anything else. "And?" he prompted.

"There weren't any hexbags, demons or other threats. This is the only exit. There wasn't any toilet roll, but I acquired some."  
Dean frowned. "You were gone like ten seconds. How the hell did you 'acquire' some toilet roll?"  
Cas put his head on one side. "I simply flew back to the last gas station and borrowed a roll. Is that a problem?" he looked at Dean, confused.

Dean managed to stop himself from yelling or trying to throttle the angel. Instead he pushed Crowley towards the restroom, closed the door behind him, and leant on it.

Cas watched him closely. Dean seemed to have something on his mind. He was glaring at the floor, repeatedly clenching and unclenching his fists. There was definitely something wrong.

"Dean…" he began, somewhat nervously. "Is everything...okay?"  
Dean snorted. "Of course. Everything's just frigging awesome."  
Unlike the early days of their relationship, it took Cas no time at all to spot Dean's sarcasm. His eyebrows bunched together as he tried to think of an appropriate response. "Is this about the toilet roll?" he asked. "Because I can take it back once Crowley's done with it-"  
"-No!" Dean interrupted angrily. "It's not about the damn toilet roll, I couldn't care less about you stealing."  
"Then what?"  
Dean folded his arms and tried to be a bit calmer before answering. "It's about you… You risking yourself over stupid stuff."  
"Risking myself?" Cas paused. "Dean, I have essentially got my grace back. I told you, the spell-"  
"-Do you think I don't know what spell you used?" Dean burst out. He looked at Cas, whose eyes had widened in shock.

"You...knew about that spell?"

Dean shook his head irritably. "Of course I did. Did you think that book was in my room for bedtime reading?" he raised an eyebrow at Cas, who was too stunned to answer. "We read all the same lore books, Cas. I combed the men of letters library for weeks searching for something, anything to get your grace back. I found that spell, and at first it seemed like a miracle. A way to save you. But then I read the warning…" Dean stopped talking. He looked at the ground for a few seconds, then looked up and met Cas' eyes. "The risks were too big, Cas. I thought it was safer to keep you in the bunker, not using any grace, while we looked for a proper solution. That spell's just a band-aid, Cas. And I know you. If we get in trouble on this job…" he grit his teeth. "I should never have called you."  
Cas took a step towards him. "Of course you should have called."

"No, I shouldn't. If there's trouble, and you use too much of your mojo… Cas, I can't lose you too."

"I can't lose you either, Dean. That's why I need my grace. To help you. Whatever-"  
"-Don't say whatever the cost. Don't you dare. Helping me is not worth your life."  
Cas scowled. "Saving you is."  
"No it's not!" Dean shouted. He hesitated, finding it hard to look Cas in the eye. "Cas, I have lost my mom, I have lost my dad. I've lost Bobby and Kevin, and I've nearly lost Sam a dozen times. You're family. I need to know that you're okay, I need you to be safe."  
"And surely me being able to defend myself, and you, can only help that!" Cas pointed out, exasperated.

"If I hadn't called you, you wouldn't need to defend yourself." Dean growled. "Besides, I can protect you."  
Cas took another step towards Dean and put a hand on his shoulder. "I know you can. But you shouldn't have too."  
Dean shook him off and walked away. Cas was being stupid. The whole reason Cas needed protecting was because he, Dean, had called him. Otherwise he'd be safe in the bunker doing research. He felt responsible. Looking after Cas was his job. He'd let him down enough in the past. He couldn't let him down again. And he couldn't let him risk himself, especially not over bloody Crowley.

Cas watched as Dean walked away. He tried to restrain himself from following - one of them should be by the door, guarding Crowley - but failed. He followed Dean for a few feet until both of them stopped.

"Dean, please. I don't want to fight with you." Cas hesitated, but eventually Dean turned to face him. Shockingly, there were tears in his green eyes. "The spell's done, there's no undoing it. And I wouldn't want to - I can help you more like this. I know you don't trust me…"  
"Don't trust you? Why the hell would you think that?"  
Cas just looked at him. "I feel that the answer to that question is obvious."  
Dean swore. "Cas, I… I trust you as much as I trust anyone who isn't myself. I trust you with my life. With Sam's life. With the fate of the whole damn world. The one thing that I don't trust you with? I don't trust you to take care of yourself. So please, Cas. For the sake of what little sanity I have. Let me take care of you."  
Cas took a few seconds to process Dean's words. And the fact that Dean had grabbed his shoulders and was looking into his eyes, begging him to understand. He gave a small smile. "Only if you extend me the same courtesy. You're my family too. Let me help you."  
Dean hugged him. Then he took a few steps back, realising how much of a sap he was being. It went against the grain to admit he ever needed help. But he couldn't hide the smile that had appeared on his face when Cas said that they were family.

"Ok." he allowed. "You can look after me if you'll let me look after you."

Cas nodded, and the pair of them started walking back to the toilet block. Dean fished around for something to say to put an end to the chick flick moment. It wasn't like him, spouting all this touchy feely crap, but now that he'd started he was finding it hard to stop. It took them walking all the way back to the toilets in silence for him to find a stupid comment to get the atmosphere between them back to normal.

"For reference, getting Crowley toilet roll does not come under the heading of helping me."  
"But it is very much appreciated." Crowley was leaning against the building, apparently waiting for them. "Good talk, gentlemen?"  
"We were discussing the weather."  
Dean felt like giving Cas a gold star for appropriate use of sarcasm. At least, he hoped that was sarcasm. Because if not, it was a terrible lie. He decided to give Cas the benefit of a doubt and assume it was sarcasm. As Crowley appeared to have no response, he also decided to head towards the diner, assuming that the angel and the demon would follow.

"Where have you been?" Sam asked when they arrived, sliding a slice of pie along the table towards Dean. "Seriously Crowley, how long does it take you to...you know..?"  
Crowley scowled and took a sip of his coffee. "Blame those two. They were conversing about the chance of rain." he gave Dean a sly look.

Dean shrugged. "Just trying to work out how much of the journey we could get done before we stop for the night." He began eating his pie, and groaned appreciatively before even finishing the first mouthful. "Wow. This pie is awesome. They weren't lying when they said it was the best pie in the state." He ate another mouthful. "Seriously, you have got to try this." He looked at Sam.

"I'm fine." Sam gestured to an empty plate in front of him. "I already ate, it would be wasted on me."  
Dean considered berating him for picking what appeared to have been a salad over pie. Still, Sam was right - it would be wasted on him. Ditto Crowley.

"Not that you were planning on asking me-" Crowley began.

"You're right." Dean interrupted. "I wasn't."  
Crowley looked at him with disdain. "I was merely going to state that my highly refined palate does not stretch to apple pie. Besides, I'm sure you don't want any more rest stops than strictly necessary."  
Dean looked at Cas, who was staring out of the diner window absent-mindedly, sipping his coffee. It was a few seconds before Cas realised that Dean was staring at him.

"Yes?"  
"Pie?"  
Cas nodded slowly. Dean smiled, and beckoned to a waitress.

"Excuse me, Miss." he began.

She smiled at him. "What can I get you, sugar?"  
"Well, first off, I just want to tell you that this apple pie… Best I've ever tasted. And that is no exaggeration."  
The waitress grinned wider. "Why thank you."  
"Well, I was wondering… Could I have another spoon, so that my friend here can try some?" he pointed at Cas with his spoon.

"Of course!" she said enthusiastically, and went off to get the spoon. Dean practically inhaled another spoonful, and had a mouthful when she returned. She handed Cas the spoon, and looked fondly between him and Dean. "You know, it's nice to see two guys who are so open about their feelings… You don't get a lot of that round here."  
She smiled down at Dean before walking away. Dean choked on his mouthful of pie, and Crowley started laughing uncontrollably. Cas, oblivious, leaned over the table and took a spoonful of pie out of Dean's whacked his brother on the back twice, stopping when Dean swallowed his pie and stopped choking. Dean looked at Cas, eating a mouthful of pie slowly, thinking hard. Then he looked at Crowley, still doing the demonic equivalent of pissing himself laughing. Finally, he looked at Sam.

"Shut up!"  
"I didn't say anything!"  
"You were thinking it." Dean glared at his brother, who gave him a falsely innocent smile. "Bitch."  
"Jerk."  
"You know, you're right Dean. This apple pie is delicious." Cas smiled at Dean.

Dean had to stop glaring at his brother in order to smile at Cas, who'd evidently missed the conversation. "Want some more?" He rolled his eyes as Cas seemed to be deliberating whether or not to ask for more pie. Typical. He wanted some, but didn't want to deprive Dean. Dean responded by scooping up more pie and shoving the bowl across the table to Cas. "I'm gonna take your silence as a yes."  
Crowley finally stopped laughing, and instead pretended to throw up. Sam laughed briefly, but stopped at the sight of Dean looking at them stonily. Crowley flinched, and the pair of them went back to drinking their coffees, attempting not to make eye contact with each other or Dean. Dean eventually stopped giving them the evil eye and began to drink his own coffee, glancing at Cas occasionally. He really was devouring that apple pie. Was this an unmentioned side effect of the spell? Having an appetite? He shrugged. There were worse things than him needing to refuel every so often.

He hesitated, knowing that Sam and Crowley were already on the verge of hysteria. But in the end, he couldn't stop himself from asking Cas: "Do you want more pie over there?"  
Cas attempted to speak through the large mouthful of pie, but gave up and just nodded. Dean chuckled, and beckoned the waitress over again. She hurried over, perpetual smile still on her face. Dean smiled up at her, taking the time to read her name badge.

"Hi there, Susie."  
"Why hello. One slice not enough between two?" she looked at Cas, who was still in the process of gulping down his final mouthful. "Looks like someone's enjoying my pie." she winked.

Cas nodded, swallowed and looked at Susie. "It is very good pie, as Dean says. How do you make it?"  
Susie laughed, and ruffled his hair. "I can't be giving my secrets away to you now."  
Dean almost laughed at how confused and uncomfortable Cas looked, but held it in so as not to embarrass him. "How about you just give us another slice of pie instead?"

Susie pretended to consider this. "Well, since you're so adorable… I'll go and get you another slice. Each. Anything else I can get you two?" she looked at Sam and Crowley.

Sam laughed. "Another slice of apple pie, since it's apparently the best pie I'll ever eat."  
Crowley rolled his eyes. "Just another cup of coffee."  
"Alright Mr grumpy gills." Sam smirked. "Can the rest of us have some more coffee too please?"

Susie headed off to put in their apple pie orders and returned bearing a pot of coffee. She topped them all up and left them to it, taking the empty bowl and two spoons away. At first, the four of them just sat there in silence. Dean was about to start discussing the rest of the journey when Sam spoke up.

"So Cas…" he began. "Planning on taking up baking?"  
Cas froze, eyes wide. He stammered something about learning more about human traditions.

Crowley snorted. "Is that what they're calling it these days?" he caught Dean's eye and backtracked. "Good for you, wings. Everyone should have a hobby."  
Sam looked at Crowley in disbelief. "You. You have a hobby. What the hell… What does the King of Hell do in his free time?"  
Crowley opened his mouth to answer, a glint in his eye, but Dean interrupted. "I'm pretty sure I don't want to know."

"Good point." Sam agreed.

"Oh, so you're all for hearing about the angel's not-so-innocent methods of passing the hours, but as soon as it's a demon…"

Sam rolled his eyes. "Stop with the 'social justice' act. I'm predicting that your favourite pass-times probably involve torture, whereas-"  
"Cas' baking is unlikely to. Unless he's really terrible. Good luck, Dean-o." Crowley winked.

Cas frowned at Crowley. "I'm not aware of baking as a form of torture. Besides which, I see no reason why I would be attempting to torture Dean."

"I give up." Crowley put his head in his hands.

"Are those handcuffs?" Susie gasped, arriving with three slices of pie.

Dean swore internally. He pulled a fake FBI badge out of his pocket. "Yes they are. Susie, meet James Madison, petty thief, helping us on a case. I promise he won't cause any trouble. He'd regret it if he did."  
"Well, I'd never have pegged you for FBI, Agent Collins." Susie put a slice of pie on the table in front of Dean. "And your friends here?" Sam and Cas pulled out badges. "Agents Banks and Rutherford. Well. I thought you fellas normally worked in pairs?"

Sam forced a smile. "Special circumstances. It's a big case."

"Well, I'll leave you to it. Enjoy your pie."  
"We will. Thank you." Cas said seriously before tucking into his pie with enthusiasm.

Sam looked at Dean. "James Madison?"

"What?"  
"Shortest President of the United States?"  
Dean smirked. "Yup. I did learn something in History class."

Crowley glared. "I loathe you all."  
Dean smiled happily. "Best news I've had all day." he began eating his pie.


	4. Chapter 4

To Live Is To Fly

It wasn't long before three slices of pie had been consumed and four cups of coffee had been finished. Susie came back to take their bowls away and laughed when Sam told her that he agreed that the pie was delicious.

"If the FBI ever needs a caterer…"  
Dean smiled at the thought. "I'll have a chat with our supervisor." he looked at the time as Susie walked off. "Right. I figure we can get a good six hours driving in before we stop for the night. There's no way I can put up with you lot for that long though, so we'll have a break after a few hours and Sam can take over driving."  
"Stop for the night?"  
Dean looked at Crowley. "Yes. Some of us need sleep, even if only for a few hours. We can't all be angels or demons."

"Well, you could…"

Dean glared. "You shut your damn mouth. One more comment like that and you'll be spending the next six hours in the trunk."  
Crowley pretended to zip his lips. Sam ignored him, instead pulling out his wallet to pay the bill. He did a double take, then chuckled to himself.

"I think Susie likes us. She's only charged us for my salad, one slice of pie and the four coffees." he squinted at the bottom of the piece of paper and grinned. "Oh, hang on. Turns out Susie likes you." he pointed to Dean and Cas simultaneously. "I'm almost offended."

"What?" Dean tried to snatch the receipt off his brother, but Sam held it out of his reach and began to read.

" 'It's been a long time since I met such an adorable couple who liked my pie so much - the last ones were my parents - so your three helpings are free. You two are an inspiration, proving that nothing gets in the way of love and that workplace romances can work. Come back any time for a slice of pie.' "

"She… She can't!" Dean spluttered. "She didn't! She never said that." he grabbed the paper and read it himself. "What the hell. Seriously, what the hell." he stared at the receipt in disbelief, refusing to look at Cas. Then Crowley started laughing, quietly at first but gradually getting louder. Dean crushed the note in his fist and looked at Crowley with hatred. "Right. That's it. You're going in the trunk."  
"And yet, somehow, still worth it."  
If Crowley had been sat in a more convenient place, Dean would have punched him. As it was, he settled for giving Sam, who'd also started laughing quietly, a clip round the ear. Sam stopped laughing, and had the decency to look slightly abashed. Dean stood up, still unable to look straight at Cas, and walked out of the diner. Almost reflexively, he uncrumpled the receipt and tucked it into his pocket, next to his FBI badge. He turned as the diner door opened and Sam and Crowley emerged.

"Where's Cas?"  
Sam shrugged. "He said he had to get something. I'm sure he'll only be a couple of minutes."  
Dean closed his eyes and exhaled slowly, then threw Sam the car keys. "Put Crowley in the trunk. I'll go get the little nerd to hurry up." Ignoring Crowley's facial expression, he turned to head into the diner again. He opened the doors and looked around briefly. Where the hell was Cas? A prickle on the back of his neck made him turn around. He nearly jumped out of his skin seeing Cas there, less than a foot away. "Damnit Cas!" he groaned. "I thought we agreed - no using your angel juice unless absolutely necessary!"  
Cas' face fell. "I'm sorry, Dean. There was something I needed to get, and I felt it would be quicker if I flew." his head tilted towards the ground, but he looked up at Dean nervously.

All Dean did was glance at Cas and he began to feel guilty. He spotted a sheet of paper in Cas' hand and focused on that instead. "What were you getting?"  
If anything, Cas looked even more nervous, but he handed the paper over to Dean.

"Is this Susie's apple pie recipe?" Dean tried to sound disapproving, but couldn't hide a smile. "You stole it?"  
"Copied it." Cas admitted.

Dean shook his head and snorted. He looked at Cas fondly and put a hand on his shoulder. "Want me to look after it for you? I wouldn't want it getting lost before you've made me a pie, and you do have a habit of trashing your trenchcoats."

Cas nodded, slightly embarrassed. Dean folded up the recipe, tucked it in his pocket, and the two of them headed off to the car to find Sam. He was leaning against the impala, waiting for them.

"Crowley's shut in the trunk. Didn't even put up a fight, which worries me. I thought I'd have a kip while you drive though, let Cas have shotgun."  
"You don't have to do that."  
"Cas, it's fine." Sam insisted. "I need some shut eye if I'm being trusted to drive later. If I crashed her, he'd kill me."  
Dean nodded. "Yup. Glad you understand the rules, Sammy."  
Sam smirked. "I wouldn't have got far if I didn't, would I."  
"You'd have made it six feet under…"  
The pair of them laughed. Cas hesitated before joining in. The Winchesters might be comfortable joking about their own demises, but he wasn't, not completely. They died frequently enough that he didn't find it amusing. Sam and Dean were still laughing when the three of them got in the car. Sam lay back, having to curl up slightly to fit led down on the back seat, and put his jacket over his face to block out the sunlight.

"Wake me up when you want me to take over driving." Sam said. Despite the coffees, hours of sleep deprivation finally took over. He was asleep in the space of ten minutes. Up until then there'd been silence in the front seats but Dean heard his brother snoring quietly and glanced back.

"Aww, just look at him. Sleeping like a baby." he realised that Cas was frowning, apparently having taken his words literally. "I didn't mean… I just meant that it's nice to see him getting some sleep. I am aware that my brother is much too big to be considered a baby. Except by me when he's asleep or being a wuss."  
Cas nodded seriously. "I...think I understand."

There was a pause.

"So Cas." Dean began, trying to fill the silence (they'd left the music off so Sam could sleep). "How have you been doing?"  
Cas was about to reply, when he realised that he wasn't sure why Dean was asking. "Is this a general question? Or do you want specifics?"  
Dean chuckled. "I'm not just asking out of politeness. I want to know how you've been, what you've been up to."  
"I'm fine. I know you won't believe me, but I really am fine. I know the spell I used has its flaws…" he hesitated, looking across at Dean to see if he was going to start shouting again. It seemed that wasn't the case, so he continued. "But I feel more like myself than I have in months. I have purpose again, Dean. I can do some good."  
"Cas-"  
"- It isn't just about having my angelic power again, though obviously it's good that I can be there immediately when you need me instead of having to drive. I just feel more…" he tried to search for the right word.

"Together?"  
Cas nodded. "Yes. I can't tell you why." he smiled at Dean. "I just know that this is what I'm supposed to be doing."

"Saving people? Hunting things?" Dean raised an eyebrow.

"The family business." Cas continued with a smile. "Something like that, yes."  
Dean grinned happily. "So you'll be doing something other than just sitting in the bunker all day reading? Planning on coming back as 'hunter-in-training'? Maybe you'll finally learn which way up an FBI badge goes."  
"I know which way up it goes."  
"Course you do." Dean was quiet for a moment, lost in memories of the first time Cas had tried masquerading as a government agent. "In all seriousness, Cas… I know what you mean about feeling whole again. God knows there have been times in my life when I've fallen to pieces. But it's doing this job - being myself - that put me back together again. I'm just saying… I know what it feels like. That feeling when you get yourself back… I'm happy for you."  
Dean heard Sam move restlessly in his sleep, still just about remaining on the back seat, and stopped talking. No sense giving him more ammunition than strictly necessary. Besides which he didn't want to disturb him and stop him getting a few hours kip. Again, they drove along in silence for a while, Cas staring out of the window at the scenery most of the time, with occasional glances at Dean. It felt odd to just sit in the car, doing nothing specifically productive. Not bad, just odd.

"Dean, can I have that recipe back for a bit? I want to work out what ingredients we need for the pie."  
Dean pulled a wadge of stuff out of his breast pocket one-handed, keeping hold of the steering wheel. "It's in with that lot. And there should be a pen and paper in the door pocket next to you if you want to make a list."

Cas took the bundle of things from Dean and began leafing through. Fake FBI badge, fake Press pass, photo of Sam and Dean leaning against the impala, laughing, drinking a couple of beers… He wondered briefly who could have taken the photo, but then recognised the background. Bobby's place. He kept looking through the pile of assorted papers etc. on his lap. The receipt from the diner just now - odd, he'd thought when he crumpled it up that he'd have thrown it away - a few loose business cards claiming to be 'Special Agent Corleone', the apple pie recipe and another photo. It was more recent than the one of Sam and Dean, Cas vaguely remembered Sam taking it. He's been in the bunker kitchen with Dean. Dean had been eating a sandwich and flicking through news reports on a laptop, while he, Cas, read through yet another lore book from the library. Sam had come in and snapped a picture with his phone. Well, evidently a few photos. The one Cas had seen previously showed himself looking at the camera confusedly while Dean ran at his brother. This one was obviously from a few seconds earlier. He had his head down, concentrating, while Dean was looking at him, not taking any notice of either the laptop or the food in front of him.

Dean looked over to see Cas staring intently at a photo. He suddenly remembered - he'd nicked Sam's phone one night and printed a photo of the pair of them off to go in his pocket with the one of him and Sam. Oh well. Cas knew more embarrassing things about him than a habit for keeping family photos on him at all times in case of emergencies. Cas eventually stopped examining the photo and began to rummage in the door pocket for a pen and paper. A couple of minutes later he was still searching.

"What's wrong?" he asked. "Isn't there any in there?"  
"I've found a pen…" Cas replied, still rooting through the door pocket. "But the only paper I've found is your father's hunting journal."  
"Oh, just write it in the back. I'm sure there's space."  
Cas looked at him, uncertain. "That doesn't seem entirely in the spirit of the book…"

"Just write the damn shopping list already." Dean's eyes began wandering towards Cas, but he forced himself to concentrate on the road, listening to Cas hum as he wrote. It took him a few repetitions to recognise the song. "Believe it or not?" he guessed. "Greatest American Hero soundtrack?"  
Cas kept writing. "I find it soothing."

Dean looked at him weirdly for a second, then shrugged and turned back to the road. "You're road-tripping with a guy who hums Metallica to relax. No judgement here. It's a good song."  
Sam gave a small cough from the back seat, his eyes staying closed. "Cas-Dean." he murmured just loud enough for it to carry to the front seat.

Dean swore loudly. Cas looked at him in surprise and asked what was wrong.

"You didn't hear?"  
"I heard Sam say our names, if that's what you're referring to. I assumed he was having a dream."  
Dean opened his mouth to explain the situation - that Sam was wide-awake and teasing them - then shut it again. It would take too long to explain, especially as Sam wouldn't be able to resist joining in. Besides which, he didn't want Cas knowing.

"A dream." he eventually responded. "Right. Well, I'm glad he's asleep. Otherwise I might have had to help him out with that. And I'm pretty sure people aren't s'posed to drive with concussion." Dean scowled at his brother in the rear-view mirror.

Sam gave a small smile, but didn't move. Sure he wasn't asleep, but he wasn't exactly awake either. Dozing was probably the best description, dozing and listening. Listening to his brother at least vaguely open up to someone for one in his life. God knows he needed to. And it was nice to hear Cas sharing too, even if he hadn't entirely been following the conversation. He smiled wider as Cas began humming again. Cowboy Junkies. Where the hell had he heard that? Surely not from Dean…

Dean recognised the song Cas was humming about the same time his brother did. Misguided Angel - Cowboy Junkies. He rolled his eyes before glancing down at what Cas was writing. He gave an exasperated sigh.

"Have you written the shopping list in Enochian?" he waited for an answer, but didn't get one. "You have, haven't you."  
Same couldn't help himself. He burst out laughing. "Seriously?"  
Cas frowned. "I thought you were asleep, Sam."  
"I was. Dean woke me up." he was careful not to say when. "You wrote a shopping list in Enochian? Nice one volunteering yourself for the supermarket run."  
"I could write the English words beside the Enochian."  
"Oh, awesome." Dean said with half-hearted sarcasm. "Let's start my English-Enochian phrasebook with what we're getting from Gas'N'Sip. I'm sure knowing the Enochian for apple will be really useful."  
Sam sat up in surprise. "You're planning on learning Enochian?"  
Dean shrugged and tried to make light of it. "Figure it might come in handy." he stared at the road ahead, ignoring Cas' eyes boring into him. It was amazing how much a pair of bright blue eyes could look like lasers. It felt like Cas was scanning his soul looking for a motive. Honestly, it was just something that had been in the back of his mind for a while.

He half expected Cas to say something, but Cas simply began writing the translations down. Dean smiled to himself, caught Sam watching him, and turned the radio on. It wasn't like they'd be waking Sam up, and it might give them an idea of the kind of traffic they'd be heading into, as well as if there were any demonic omens in the New York area. Something this big you'd expect some disappearances and freaky weather at the least. Lost in thought, he jolted slightly when instead of one of his preset stations Taylor Swift started blaring out. He looked at his brother accusingly, not fooled by the expression of innocence. Sam had done this, he had no doubt. Well, he wasn't going to amuse him by acting embarrassed.

"...the haters gonna hate hate hate…"

Dean turned it up, and was rewarded with Sam groaning loudly.

"...I'm just gonna shake shake shake shake shake, shake it off…"

There was a loud banging from the boot of the car. Evidently Crowley wasn't impressed with Sam's music choice. The loud knocking continued until the song ended, when Crowley stopped suddenly, apparently listening for what song was coming next. There was a slight delay while the radio DJ talked, Cas finished writing his shopping list and Dean put the photos and other odds and ends back in his pocket.

"... I knew you were trouble when you walked in…" Taylor Swift sang loudly from the stereo.

Sam's phone started ringing. He looked at the screen, laughed, and asked Cas to turn the music down before answering and putting it on speaker.

"Hi Crowley. How's the boot?"  
"Cramped. And apparently not soundproofed. When you said that you'd prank your brother if I climbed in here without making a fuss, this isn't what I had in mind."  
"Not a Taylor Swift fan?" Dean asked.

Crowley didn't respond. Dean grinned and turned the radio up.

"Your apprenticeship with Alistair really shows." even on the phone it was obvious that Crowley was speaking through gritted teeth. "This is worse torture than anything you'd get in Hell. Turn it off. Please. For the love of all that's unholy."  
Cas scowled at his words and turned the radio up another notch.

"Nice one Cas." Dean nodded approvingly.

"That was Castiel?" Crowley yelled loud enough that they could hear him both on the phone and (muffled) through the back seat. "You know, for an angel, you can be pretty sadistic. Maybe that's why Dean likes you so much…"  
"Can it, Crowley." Dean and Cas spoke in unison.

"Only when you turn the bloody music off! Honestly, it's worse than the classic rock marathon. What do you people have against a little variety?"

"If it's a choice between decent music and pissing you off, there's no contest." Dean explained happily.

Crowley sounded sulky when he eventually replied. "You're cutting off your nose to spite your face."  
Sam laughed. "Got any more pearls of wisdom from Mummy?" he enquired patronisingly. There was no response, so he looked at the phone. "He hung up!" he said, surprised.

"He is the King of Hell." Dean pointed out. "Rude's kind of in the job description."  
Still, he began searching for another radio station, one that played something other than Taylor Swift. He stopped when he found a news reporter talking about a recent upsurge in car thefts, and waited for the guy to finish and move onto traffic and weather. A couple of traffic accidents, nothing on their route, no crazy weather. Nothing out of the ordinary. Weird.

"Does it seem odd to you that we're supposedly hunting some high level demon, trying to open the gates of Hell, and there's nothing? No omens, no weird disappearances, no freak lightning storms…"

Dean shrugged. Sam was voicing thoughts that had been running through the back of his head. "We're still like a day's drive out. Could be it's all focused closer to the gate." he was aware he was making excuses, and by the look on Sam's face so was he. "I know, I know. But we've come this far. We should check it out."  
"Sure. And if he's been lying…"  
"Like I said. Cas gets first dibs. Though I'm hoping he'll let us help."  
"Well, I wouldn't want you two to miss out on the fun." Cas agreed wryly. "Though if there is by some chance a Devil's gate in the centre of Manhattan… What is the plan?"  
Dean smirked. "We cut down anyone in our path." he paraphrased the second Pirates of the Caribbean film, earning a laugh from Cas.

Sam was confused. "I thought you said you'd watched the first Pirates movie with him."

"I did." Dean nodded as the radio started playing Motorhead. "But you weren't back yet when it finished, so we watched the next one too."  
There was a long pause. Then Sam began coughing loudly and falsely. In the midst of the coughing, Dean heard his brother say clearly "Destiel".

"Shut your damn piehole."

"What?" Sam objected. "I was just coughing!"  
Dean ignored him, scowling at the road ahead. Sam simply chuckled to himself and stretched out across the back seat again.

"Who's Destiel?" Cas asked quietly.

"I'll let you take that one, Dean." Sam raised an eyebrow and settled down smugly to listen to his brother attempt to talk himself out of this one.

Dean hesitated. He could feel Cas watching him, waiting for a response. Damn. No chance of fobbing him off with a sarcastic comment. And he didn't want to lie to the little guy. So that left the only other option.

Editing the truth.

"A while ago," he began, "Sam and me, we worked a case at this girls' school. They were doing a play-"  
"-a musical-" Sam interrupted.

Dean ignored him and kept talking. "-based on the Supernatural books. You know, those books Chuck wrote."  
"The Winchester Gospels." Cas confirmed. "Of course."  
"Yeah. Well, long story short, while we were working out what was killing people and how to gank it, we ended up watching a load of rehearsals and chatting to the directors. They had a ton of slang they used for certain moments during the show."

Sam started humming the tune of 'A Single Man Tear'. Dean nudged the brakes so that he almost fell off the seat and he stopped immediately, recognising the warning.

"Well, one of the things was that they had a load of names for when certain characters were on stage together." Dean suddenly realised that the only name he knew was Destiel and cast around for something other than that to make the point with. "Say Sam and Gabriel did a scene together. That would be Sabriel."  
"Low blow, Dean."  
Dean continued to ignore his brother, instead watching Cas attempt to process the new information.

"So Destiel is..?"  
"You and me."

"Oh."  
There was an awkward gap before Sam spoke up.

"I still think it should be Deastiel."  
Dean was about to berate him when Cas started talking. "That is a more accurate contraction of our names." he agreed, nodding. "Though I don't understand why there would be specific terms for when it was just two characters on stage together. Surely there would be a lot more examples where 3 or 4 main characters were seen at the same time? Besides which, is it really so much easier to say 'Destiel' instead of 'Dean and Cas'?"  
"Cas-Dean." Sam whispered.

"Who knows." Dean said in response to Cas' questions, talking over his brother. "Theatre kids… They're a load of fruit loops. Who knows what crazy stuff they're thinking!"

"Hey! I was a theatre kid!"  
"Yup. And you're definitely looney tunes." Dean was completely aware that he was only saying any of this to spite his brother for taking the piss out of him and Cas. The fact that Cas hadn't realised that Sam was teasing him didn't change the fact that he was. "Certifiable. We should probably just drop you off at an asylum. Again."  
"I'm pretty sure there's only one person in this car who hasn't been in a mental asylum, and he's locked in the trunk." Sam paused. "Well, I assume he hasn't. I don't actually know."  
Dean considered that for a few seconds. "That is a really sorry state of affairs."  
"You're telling me. Now d'you want me to take over driving soon? Or can I go back to sleep?"  
"As if you ever actually went to sleep." Dean said, rolling his eyes.

Sam went on the defensive. "I was asleep for a while! You woke me up!"  
"Whatever you say, Sammy." Dean sighed. "I'll pull over in a bit, let you take over. I could definitely do with a break."


	5. Chapter 5

Life In The Fast Lane

It took quarter of an hour of driving along in silence before Dean found a suitable pull in. By this point, he'd just about stopped wanting to punch his brother in the face (though if he looked at him and Cas with that 'I know what's really going on here' expression once more, he might change his mind). To add to his stress levels, Cas kept looking at him, frowning slightly. Dean could tell that Cas knew he'd left something out when he was explaining the Destiel thing. It was just a case of whether he found the balls to ask him about it. He really hoped he didn't. He didn't want to lie to him, but he sure as hell wasn't going to tell him that a load of teenage girls thought they should be a couple. It was just weird and embarrassing. He was still thinking as he pulled up at the side of the road and undid his belt. Cas started doing the same, but Dean put out a hand to stop him.

"I'll get in the back, have a nap. You can stay here, keep Sam company." Dean was about to get out and swap seats when his phone started ringing. He answered without checking who it was. "This is Dean Winchester."  
"Yes. I know. Just wondering if I could stretch my legs while we've stopped. Not sure if you've ever spent an extended period of time back here, but I can tell you it's extremely cramped." Crowley said with forced politeness.

"You know, I'd love to…" Dean replied sarcastically. "But we're only stopping long enough for me and Sam to swap seats. Right now, you're delaying us. Again." Dean got out the car, listening as Crowley gave up on the polite act and starting griping at him down the phoneline. He settled down on the backseat and interrupted the tirade. "Bye, Crowley." he hung up.

"What did he want?" Sam asked, making a few adjustments before pulling out onto the highway.

Dean kicked his shoes off, balled up a shirt lying on the floor to make a pillow, and lay down. "He wanted out of the trunk, but personally I'm enjoying it being just the three of us. Team Free Will on the road again."  
"Sap."

"Shut up. Wake me up in a couple hours and we'll start looking for motels."

Dean closed his eyes. Now he'd stopped driving, he'd suddenly realised quite how knackered he was. Letting Sam take over had been a good decision. He was still semi-conscious when Sam turned the radio down, but snoring gently by the time the next song ended. Sam glanced in the mirror and smiled.

"I knew he was tired. He always gets cranky when he's sleep deprived." Sam looked across at Cas half expecting a laugh, but he still seemed to be thinking hard. After a few minutes of awkward silence, Sam finally asked Cas what was on his mind. "Whatever's bugging you...just let me know. We can sort it out."

Cas hesitated. "I don't really know…"  
"Know what?" Sam asked. "What's bothering you?"  
"It's not that. It's how to word the question."  
Sam rolled his eyes. "Just ask."  
Cas took a deep breath before he spoke. "The Destiel thing… What Dean said… Is it true? It seems implausible, but I've learnt that humans have a tendency towards doing the irrational."  
Sam gave a wry smile. So that was what had been bothering him. He'd realised there was more to the story than Dean had been willing to tell. Good for him. Still, Sam didn't feel he could say anything. For whatever reason, he didn't want Cas knowing, or at least not right now. It was Dean's call. Well. Unless Cas put his brain in gear and thought of just googling it. But he had to say something, he couldn't just blank him.

"Yes. It's the truth." he paused for a while, trying to decide if he should say any more. "Ok, it's not the whole story," he admitted, "but it was actually most of it, which is pretty impressive considering Dean is like, the poster child for repressed feelings."  
"Repressed feelings?"  
Sam froze. "Forget I said anything."

"No, you're right. Dean does have a habit of burying his feelings. I've come to realise that it's a coping mechanism, not that he just doesn't care."

Sam had to bite his tongue to resist the urge to start humming again. 'I bury feelings, don't show I care'... They'd got Dean spot on right there. As had Cas. He glanced across. Cas seemed to consider his words for a while before giving up and staring out of the window. The two of them fell silent again, and it was a few miles before Sam thought of something to say.

"So… You got your wings back then. That must feel good."  
Cas' face brightened instantly. "It does. While I may not be using them right now, it does make me feel more like myself knowing I can."  
"I bet… I just can't believe how long it took to find something to fix it. I mean, I know I was dragging Dean out hunting and you were spending a fair bit of time working out how to sort out the issues with the veil… But still, Dean's spent more time doing research on restoring your grace than I've seen him read up on anything." he looked over to see Cas frowning, not quite the reaction he'd expected. "What? Isn't that a good thing?"  
"I found the spell in a book. In Dean's room."  
"Oh."  
"He found it some time ago. And hid it. Because he didn't like the side effects."  
Sam raised an eyebrow. "Which were..?"  
"The primary issue is that if I use too much angelic power, the spell could stop working. And potentially I could die."  
Sam's eyes widened. "I can see why he didn't want you using that one."  
"It should have been my decision! I'm not some child he needs to protect. I wasn't going to do the spell without considering the consequences."  
"Isn't that exactly what you did when you found it?"  
Cas didn't reply.

"You're only paranoid if you're wrong…" Sam mused.

"I don't think that's entirely true." Cas pointed out diplomatically. "And the comment seems somewhat off topic."

Sam laughed. "Not really. Dean and I were raised by two guys who admitted that they were paranoid bastards and taught him to see danger round every corner. His most important rule was 'watch out for Sammy'. Is it really a surprise that he thinks it's his job to save everyone, especially people he cares about?"

"That's somewhat different from being paranoid.-"  
"-But it does explain him hiding a spell when he thought you might risk your life using it." Sam interrupted.

Cas narrowed his eyes. "He constantly puts his life at risk."  
Sam shrugged and overtook a truck on a go slow ahead of them. "I didn't say he wasn't a hypocrite."

The only response he got was silence. Judging by Cas' body language, he seemed to be mulling over Sam's words. Sam glanced in the rear view mirror. Dean was fast asleep, so he risked turning the volume up a bit on the radio. He drove along, listening and occasionally commenting on news stories that came up ("No way that's bad luck. Sounds like a cursed object, or maybe a vengeful spirit.") or the quality of the music. Cas for the most part stared out of the window, but from time to time gave his own response to what Sam was saying. They drove like that for a few hours, watching the miles tick by, before Dean tried to stretch, accidentally punched the ceiling and swore loudly.

Sam laughed at him. "Good morning Sleeping Beauty."  
"Shut up." Dean said groggily. He squinted at his watch. "You let me sleep for like three hours! Damnit Sammy…"  
"You needed the sleep." Sam showed no remorse. "I'd have woken you soon though, we ought to start looking for somewhere to stop. Oh, and I think you got a text."  
Dean sat up properly and pulled his phone out of his pocket. Crowley. Son of a bitch, what the hell did he want?  
Just a friendly warning, because we're besties.

Dean shuddered at the thought.

If you leave me in here much longer, I'll get bored. There's a lot of wires here though, which I'm sure could be very entertaining…

"Son of a bitch."  
"What?"  
"Crowley."  
Sam rolled his eyes. "What's he done now?"  
"It's not what he's done. It's what he's threatening to do to my baby." he forwarded the message to Cas' phone before sending Crowley an irritated message informing him that they'd let him out as soon as they found a motel to stop at.

Cas read out Crowley's text to Sam, who nearly choked in shock, but managed to keep driving. "He seriously said that? Wow. That's low even for him."

"Yup." Dean threw a dirty look towards the back of the car. He was about to say something else when his phone beeped to tell him a text had arrived. He looked down at it and smiled.

Ignore Crowley. He's an idiot.

It was from Cas. Dean decided to humour him by texting back.

He's an idiot who happens to be in the boot of my car, planning on messing around with it.

There was a bit of a delay before Cas texted back.

:/

The use of an emoticon made Dean give another small smile.

You're right. I should ignore him. I mean, 'besties'? Really? Deluded much! :P

Sam glanced across at Cas. There was a smile on his face as he typed another message. Did the pair of them really think he hadn't noticed they were texting? Did they think that he was blind? Or deaf?

Dean, in fact, had no such illusions. He knew Sam was completely aware of the texting going on. He just didn't really mind, and he wasn't going to stop. It seemed to be cheering Cas up and potentially reassuring him that he did trust him.

I assume 'besties' is a shortened form of best friends. In which case, deluded seems an accurate description. ;)

Dean smirked at the text before spotting a sign out the window advertising a motel in 12 miles. "We could stop there if they've got two rooms spare." he suggested to Sam.

You're happy to babysit the demon while me and Sam get some more shut-eye, right Cas?

"You sure? I mean, we could drive on a bit further if you want, I'm sure Crowley wouldn't mind…" Sam teased.

"You shut your piehole." Dean growled back.

Am I allowed to knock him out if he's annoying?

Dean went from scowling to grinning in the time it took him to read the text.

You're allowed to knock him out if he's even mildly irritating.

Sam pulled off the highway, relieved to see that the motel was still advertising vacancies. He wasn't sure his self-control would overcome his curiosity for another twenty miles or so, and Dean and Cas didn't seem to be calling a halt to the texting. It wasn't that he minded. I was simply that he was nosy, and the pair of them were smiling down at their phones like a pair of lovestruck teenagers. Surely it was only natural to be interested in what they were discussing. Maybe he'd ask Dean later. But he wouldn't be doing that with Cas or Crowley in the room. It was unlikely enough that Dean would open up, without reducing the odds like that.

"Right." Dean took charge as soon as the car had stopped. "You stay here with Crowley, me an' Cas'll go book us a couple of rooms."

"Why don't I go get some take out, and you text me the room number? I'll be back in a bit with calories and Crowley."

Dean hesitated, looking unsure.

"Fine, I'll get Crowley out the trunk before I head off so he doesn't mess with your car. Happy?" Sam sighed in exasperation at the look of relief on Dean's face.

The three of them got out of the car and headed round to the boot. Dean knocked and lifted the lid. "Hey Crowley."  
Crowley clambered out awkwardly, scowling at the three of them. "I assume you deigned to let me out because we've reached something that you two uncultured morons would consider an appropriate pit stop." he peered round them at the motel vacancies sign. "Ah. The Super Inn Motel. Classy. I hope you don't expect me to be grateful."  
"I've changed my mind." Sam decided. "I'm not taking him on the food run. He can stay here with you two."  
Dean and Crowley both started arguing with him at the same time.

"Come on, Cas is gonna be stuck with him the whole time we're sleeping. At least give him a break now."  
"You can't leave me with the happy couple! Come on moose, show a little empathy!"

Dean glared at Crowley, who just scowled back. Sam stifled a laugh at the sight of them - Crowley and Dean staring daggers at each other while Cas hovered at Dean's shoulder looking confused. Sam assumed that he'd either missed what they'd said, or missed the irony of it.

"Fine, fine. I'll take him with me. As long as he doesn't call me 'moose' or 'Samantha' or...anything but 'Sam'." he looked at Crowley. "Do we have a deal?"  
"Oh, of course." Crowley forced himself not to add an insulting nickname. "How would you like to seal said deal?"

Sam backed up. "Not the way you're thinking." he walked round the car, got in the driver's seat and turned the key in the ignition.

"Spoilsport." Crowley commented sulkily before heading round the ride shotgun.

"Pie!" Dean shouted at his brother as he pulled away. Sam waved a hand out of the window in acknowledgement and Dean turned to Cas. "Bet you ten bucks he forgets."  
"I'm not sure my gambling is a good idea - I don't exactly have much money to spare.."  
Dean clapped him on the shoulder. "I'll get you some more credit cards to max out once we're done with this hunt. In the meantime, you can just owe me."  
Cas frowned. "I'll only owe you if Sam returns without pie, correct?"  
"The bet's off if you remind him." said Dean. "No zipping off and putting some in his basket."

Cas smiled wryly. "Would I do that?" he asked in a tone of innocence that made Dean suddenly suspicious of what the angel would or wouldn't do to win a bet.

"Fly off somewhere to achieve an essentially pointless task? I'm sure the thought never crossed your mind."  
Cas noted the sarcastic tone. "If you're referring to my actions earlier today-"  
"-Forget it, Cas." Dean rolled his eyes. "Let's go get a room. Two rooms. Better not forget that - I'm not falling asleep in the same room as Crowley."  
"I'd watch over you, Dean. There wouldn't be any danger."  
"I know, I know. I still don't want to be unconscious in the same room as that douchewad." Dean turned and started walking towards the motel reception, Cas on his heels.


	6. Chapter 6

_I'm so sorry for the delay in updating - I have an exam today and vet student life is pretty busy so I occasionally forget to update! In the manner of all writers, I would love any comments you're willing to provide. Can't promise any changes as it is a complete fic, but I would really really love to know what you think (would also give me inspiration for the massively Destiel sequel to this that I'm writing)._

Bad Company

Dean handed a credit card in the name of Anthony Stark over to the yawning guy at the front desk and used it to book two twin rooms. Despite the half-empty parking lot, he sleepily informed them that the only twin rooms available were on different floors of the motel, then looked surprised when Dean said that that was some of the best news he'd had all day. His look of confusion only disappeared when Dean and Cas, having picked up two sets of keys, both ignored the stairs and headed towards the ground floor room. Cas followed Dean in, sat down on one of the beds and volunteered to text Sam the room number. Dean straightened up, having been kneeling on the floor plugging one of his many phones into a socket.

"Go ahead. So long as you don't remind him about the pie."  
Cas sighed. "I wasn't going to." he paused. "I don't have an ulterior motive here, Dean. I just want to help."

Dean felt immediately guilty. "I know you do. And it'd be great if you could text Sam while I set the laptop up and see if there's any demon omens showing up around the big apple." he looked at the confused expression on Cas' face. "I mean New York, not some giant fruit."  
"Oh." Cas appeared to be digesting this information. "Would you like me to monitor the police scanner as well?"  
"Sure, Cas. That'd be great."

Dean had dumped the bag with the laptop in by the door when he first entered the room searching for a plug socket. Now he headed back over there, grabbed it, and came to sit on the bed opposite Cas. It took him a while to log onto the free WiFi and find the webpages of a few local newspapers. By this time Cas had finished texting Sam, so came to sit by Dean so they could look at the news stories together instead of Dean reading them out. There wasn't much that was relevant - a few more disappearances than was entirely normal and a freak thunderstorm the day before a few miles out of Manhattan was all Dean spotted in quarter of an hour of looking.

"This is a waste of time." declared Dean. "There's nothing here to suggest Crowley's telling the truth about some demon trying to open a gate to Hell in the middle of New York."  
"There could be something on another site… Though you're right. Odds are we're walking into a trap."  
Dean shrugged. "Who knows? Keep looking if you want. I'm gonna take a shower."

He handed the laptop over to Cas, kicked his shoes off, stood up and wandered towards the bathroom. Cas was about to open the webpage for another newspaper when he heard a yell. He turned to see Dean on his back on the floor.

"Son of a bitch, that frigging hurt! Who the hell leaves a bar of soap on the floor?"  
Cas left the laptop on the bed and appeared beside Dean, who was holding the back of his head and grimacing. He took the hand Cas offered and managed to stand up briefly, before wobbling over and being caught by Cas. He tested his foot on the floor and winced. Cas tried to pull him back towards the bed, but Dean resisted.

"Dean, you've got a mild concussion and a badly sprained ankle. Let me-"  
Dean pulled away. "I'm fine. I'll walk it off."  
"You can't 'walk off' a concussion." Cas pointed out. "If you'd just let me heal you…"  
Dean took a few steps back to stop Cas touching his forehead, nearly falling over in the process. "No way. You're not risking a burn-out over me being clumsy. I'll be fine by morning."  
"No you won't." Cas looked at Dean, stubbornly standing with weight on both feet despite the fact that it was obviously hurting him. "At least come and sit down."  
"I told you, I'm fine."  
The fact that Dean shifted so the weight was off his injured ankle told Cas he was lying. "I know," he began, "but like you said, there's no point looking through any more websites. You might as well sit down, have a beer from the mini-bar and wait for Sam to get back."  
He went to the mini-bar and got a couple of beers out before Dean got it into his head to do it himself. When he turned back around, Dean was sat on the bed, pressing on the back of his head to find the tender spot. Cas walked over and handed him a beer. Dean was briefly distracted by opening it, and Cas took the advantage and quickly touched his forehead to heal him, before sitting down and opening his own beer.

"Damnit Cas! I said I was fine!"  
"Yes. And considering that you spend a large percentage of your time lying to people, you aren't very good at it."  
"Shut up." Dean paused. "Are you good?"  
"I'm fine, Dean."  
Dean narrowed his eyes. "No one likes a smart-arse, Cas."  
Cas sipped his beer and gave a small smile. "Sorry. But I am completely 'good'. Honestly, I'm beginning to think that the reason the author didn't give an example of something strong enough to void the spell is because there isn't anything."  
"Yeah." Dean drank his beer thoughtfully. "I'd still rather you didn't test the theory."

"Surely it would make more sense to test it in a controlled way, so that when I get in a fight I know how much power I can use without being at risk?"  
"Or maybe you could just not put yourself at risk! Maybe you could try keeping yourself safe for a change!"  
Cas looked down at the floor. "You say that as if my own safety should be my highest priority. And yet your own safety is never yours." he turned to face Dean again and spoke forcefully. "You aren't the only one with the right to put someone else's life before your own. You aren't the only one with people you don't want to live without."  
The door opened before Dean could formulate a response. Sam and Crowley walked in carrying half a dozen pizzas and a box marked 'Pie - Cherry', They halted in the doorway, aware from the looks on Cas and Dean's faces that they were interrupting something.

It took a full minute before anyone broke the silence.

"So Cas," Dean said awkwardly, "I guess I owe you that ten bucks, right?" he noticed Crowley smile slyly and open his mouth, and butted in before he could say anything. "I bet him ten dollars that you'd forget the pie, but it looks like I was wrong."  
Sam looked offended. "As if I'd forget the pie. Though I think you're gonna be disappointed. It doesn't look nearly as good as the one from the diner earlier." he tossed the box over to Dean, who nearly fell out of the bed to catch it.

"Of course it's not going to be as good as Susie's." Dean replied matter-of-factly. "But it's still pie, so it'll still be delicious."  
"Can I try some?"  
Dean looked at Cas, surprised. "Um, sure. How about we save it 'til after the pizza though."  
Crowley gagged. Sam ignored him and came over to sit on the other bed opposite Dean and Cas. Dean put the pie to one side and took the pizza box Sam was offering. Crowley loitered by the door for a bit, then sat down on the same bed as Sam, looking at the others with distaste. Sam and Dean ignored him, instead choosing to stuff their faces with pizza, Cas stealing the occasional slice from Dean's box.

"So, what did we miss?" Sam asked after his third slice of margherita.

Dean shrugged, before replying through a mouthful of pepperoni. "Not much. Me and Cas checked out a few websites, there wasn't much out of the ordinary." he swallowed. "Almost like you're the only demon in town, Crowley. Now why would that be?"

Crowley shot him a disparaging look. "Do you not think we demons know how to keep a low profile? Put it this way: in this...delightful roadtrip… have we been followed by waves of thunderstorms and cattle mutilations? No. Because I only cause such mayhem and destruction when it suits my purposes."  
"What possible purpose could be served by mutilating cattle?" Sam asked, getting up to grab a beer. "And don't say 'fun'."

Crowley sighed. "Honestly? By this point I think it's mainly habit. It's not like the good old days where every Tom, Dick and Harry would recognise demonic omens so they helped spread terror amongst the peasants. Nowadays people tend to blame aliens, it's much less effective." he sounded somewhat disappointed.

Dean took one look at the scowl on Cas' face and changed the subject. "Yeah, so, you didn't miss much here. How was the shopping trip?"  
Immediately Crowley folded his arms sulkily. Sam's eyebrows furrowed, and he gave Dean a look that made it obvious he didn't want to talk about it.

Dean grinned. "What's the matter, Sammy? Was the nasty demon mean to you..?" he asked patronisingly.

Sam threw a pizza crust at him. "It was fine. Until he started trying to make deals with everyone in the pizza joint."

Dean almost choked. "He what?"  
Crowley smirked. Sam punched him in the arm and continued talking. "He told anyone who would listen that he could get them unlimited free pizza. And that they'd never have to stand in a queue again. Then, when we got to the front, he tried to get the guy to sell his soul for a better job."

Dean didn't know whether to laugh, or punch Crowley to wipe the smile off his face. He felt the bed move and grabbed Cas' arm in an attempt to stop him launching himself at Crowley. "What did you do?" he asked Sam.

Sam laughed. "I told them all he had early-onset dementia."

Dean and Cas joined in laughing too.

"You did what?" Crowley roared over the sound of hysteria.

"I mouthed it at them over your shoulder." Sam burst out between laughs. "And whenever your back was turned I explained to them that I was your carer and that you weren't safe to be let out alone."  
Crowley looked at Sam, outraged. The other three gradually stopped laughing (for the most part) and went back to eating their way through the vast amounts of pizza Sam had bought to make up for the lack of food he and Dean had eaten over the past few days while they'd been hunting. They ate mostly in silence, with occasional bursts of laughter, especially at first. Sam found himself looking in Cas and Dean's direction in order to avoid Crowley's malignant gaze, and came to notice that Cas was eating a lot of pizza for a celestial being. He considered commenting on it, but decided that it was probably worth waiting until Crowley was out of earshot. Eventually, when all the pizza had been devoured, Dean opened the box, grabbed a knife off the bedside table, and dutifully cut the pie in half. He offered it to Cas, who vanished briefly and reappeared on the other side of the room with two bowls and two spoons.

"Damnit Cas!" Dean exclaimed. "Was that really necessary?"  
Cas was baffled. "I thought it would be difficult to eat pie without a spoon. And it seemed logical to get bowls as well…"  
"It seemed logical." Dean repeated, dumbfounded. "Logical. Right."

Cas opened his mouth to argue his case, but Dean just rolled his eyes and put his hand out for the bowls. While Dean was dishing the pie, Sam grabbed his laptop and started surfing the internet for anything his brother and the angel would have missed. He allowed the debate they were having over the quality of the pie to wash over him as he looked at missing persons records for the past 6 months.

After a few minutes, he spoke up. "So get this," he began, "I was looking at the missing persons records-"  
"-That's a bust." Dean interrupted. "We already checked - few more disappearances than average, but nothing to suggest mass demonic activity." he started scraping the bowl with the spoon, but eventually gave up and used his finger instead.

"Yeah, I thought so too. But then I looked back a few months, and it turns out there was a spike in the number of people going missing."  
"What happened?" Cas asked.

"Nothing." Sam informed him.

Dean put his bowl to one side, finally accepting that there was no more pie left. "Nothing?"  
"Exactly. It's like a load of demons showed up, smoked into people, and then just...waited. There's no homicide boost, nothing on violent crime, no riots… It's like they're-"  
"- Trying to keep a low profile while they work out how to open the gates of Hell?" Crowley suggested.

Cas gave him a withering look. "That's one possible explanation, yes. But it could also simply be a spate of kidnappings or… a vampire who's skilled at disposing of bodies. There's nothing in what Sam's said that conclusively states that this was demonic."  
"No, there isn't." Sam agreed. "But it's the first thing that suggests we might be chasing something other than our own tails on this hunt."  
"Does my word count for nothing?"  
Cas glared at Crowley again. "No."

"I'm hurt, wings." his tone gave away the falseness of the claim.

Cas simply continued glaring at him menacingly. Sam looked between the two of them and raised an eyebrow. The tension was palpable. Was leaving the two of them alone in a room for multiple hours really a good idea? He was about to say something when Dean spoke up first.

"Cas, can I have a word? Outside?"  
Cas looked at him, mildly surprised. "Of course, Dean."  
Dean had a brief glimpse of the approving look Sam was giving him before he stood up and walked out the door, Cas following him. He stopped when he thought they're gone far enough that Crowley wouldn't be able to listen in and turned to face Cas. The guy looked weirdly nervous, as if he were expecting Dean to tell him off.

"If this is about the pie…" Cas tried to head him off. "I realise that you think what I did was reckless, but surely you can see that having bowls and spoons was much more hygienic-"

"-Cas, stop." Dean looked at him and smiled fondly. "I'm not here to have a go at you. I know you just wanted to help, like usual."  
"Oh." There was a slight pause while Cas processed this. "Then… What did you want to talk to me about?" he looked at Dean, who took a while to reply.

"I'm worried about you, man. I'm worried about what's gonna happen if I leave you in a room with Crowley for a few hours."  
"Dean, I'm perfectly capable of putting my personal animosities aside. I wouldn't kill him. I know that, for now, we need him."  
"I know you wouldn't. I'm not worried about that dickbag. I'm worried about you. Now me and Sammy, we only need a few more hours kip before we're set to go. If you'd rather we did it in shifts, so we weren't abandoning you with Crowley…"  
"That's not necessary, Dean."  
"I know. But would you prefer it?"  
Cas thought about it briefly. Of course he'd rather have company, rather than sit in a room with Crowley for four straight hours. But in the end, doing so would only prolong the journey and extend the time they all had to spend with the demon. Not to mention that this plan would leave Sam and Dean ultimately more vulnerable, as it would result in each of them sleeping alone in an easily accessible motel room.

"No, you and Sam get some sleep. I'll watch Crowley." he saw Dean open his mouth uncertainly, but butted in. "Dean, I'll be fine. The sooner you and Sam go to sleep, the sooner we can get this over with."  
Dean met Cas' eyes and realised that there was no talking him out of this. "Fine. But we'll put a Devil's trap on the floor so that he can't get on your side of the room, and if he tries anything, you call me. I mean anything, like, he throws a sock at you and he's going in the trunk."  
Cas frowned. "Why would he throw a sock at me?"  
"To piss you off!" Dean pointed out, frustrated. "He's gonna have a few hours where goading you is his only source of entertainment!"  
"I can handle it."  
Dean sighed. "I know. Doesn't mean I like it." there was a slightly awkward pause as the two of them simply looked at each other, punctuated by Dean clearing his throat. "Right," he said, "let's head upstairs and check the room out then."  
"Surely it would make more sense to leave me and Crowley in the ground floor room." Cas suggested. "It's more exposed, and I'll be awake to respond to threats, whereas you and Sam would take longer to become fully…" he searched for the right word. "...alert."

Dean nodded and clapped Cas on the shoulder. "Good thinking. Though Crowley's gonna be pissed when we start spray-painting the floor around him." Dean thought for a second. "Want me to draw it in the bathroom so you get the room to yourself?" he grinned.

Cas smiled back, but shook his head. "No, I'll be fine with him in the room where I can keep my eye on him."  
"Fair enough." Dean started walking back to the room, but stopped and looked back. "Oh, and Cas? Could you try not to use your angel batteries while I'm upstairs? I mean, if your life's in danger, go ahead, but otherwise… I won't sleep properly if I'm worried about you burning out."  
Cas took half a step towards Dean, his hand waving slightly as if considering reaching out to grab him, but halted. "Of course." he promise. "I'll only use my angelic powers if there's an immediate threat to us-"  
"-To you." Dean specified. "Screw Crowley."  
Cas sighed. "Fine."  
"Good." Dean ran a hand through his hair somewhat nervously. "Thanks. Well… let's go sort out this Devil's trap."  
He tramped back towards the room, unsure why he suddenly felt somewhat moody. There was nothing to cause it - if anything the situation had improved. They'd decided to trap Crowley on the opposite side of the room to Cas, and Cas had promised not to kill his angel batteries protecting that dickwad. Still, something was bugging him. He just wasn't sure what.

Luckily he was distracted from this as soon as he opened the door by Crowley inquiring snidely "Trouble in paradise?"  
"Can it, Crowley."  
Dean almost laughed. "You took the words right out of my mouth, Cas." he grabbed a spray can out of the bag hung on the back of the door and started shaking it.

Crowley looked at him, taken aback. "What's that for?"  
"Devil's trap." Dean answered simply.

"What?" Crowley gasped. "You can't be serious. You're not really going to draw a Devil's trap on the floor of a motel room." he seemed to suddenly realise that Dean wasn't joking, and looked to Sam for assistance. "Come on Jolly Green, you're supposed to be the smart one. Tell him."  
"Dean, stop. He's right."  
Crowley looked at him with approval, but Sam kept talking.

"Draw it on the sheet with pen, we can take it with us and they won't know. A pentagram on the floor is harder to explain."  
Dean nodded. "Good shout, Sammy."  
Crowley just scowled at Sam mutinously. "Traitor." he muttered.

"For me to be a traitor, there would have to have been some level of loyalty between us," Sam pointed out, "which there wasn't." he realised Dean was struggling to find a suitable pen and pulled a marker out of his shirt pocket. "Catch!"

Dean snagged it in one hand and uncapped it with the other. "Pink." he observed. "Any particular reason you've been walking around with a pink marker pen in your pocket?" he raised an eyebrow.

"I don't see how the colour of the pen makes a difference. The trap would work equally well drawn in any colour ink." Cas commented, shutting the curtains before leaning against the wall.

"Exactly." Sam glared at his brother, who was smirking. "It doesn't matter what colour the pen is." Dean was still smirking. "Oh for God's sake, it was in a multipack, Dean! Stop being such a child!"

Dean laughed and started drawing on the bedsheet. "If I'm a child, what does that make you? I am older."  
"And I think we can agree that I'm much more mature."  
"I'm not convinced either of you can be described as mature." Crowley commented sourly. "Childish is a much more accurate description."  
Yeah, because you're just a poster child for maturity."said Dean sarcastically. "There's only really one adult in this room, and it ain't you."  
Crowley stared at him. "The angel?" he asked, dumbfounded. "You're joking."

"I was ancient when dinosaurs walked the earth."  
"And age is no substitute for experience." Crowley winked at Cas, who looked to Dean for help interpreting.

Dean said nothing. He silently finished drawing the Devil's trap, grabbed Crowley and basically threw him onto the bed.

"I don't think he appreciated my commenting on Cas' lack of experience." Crowley stage-whispered to Sam.

Dean punched him.

"Watch it, squirrel! Will you stop with the manhandling?"  
Dean ignored him. "We're gonna leave you in Cas' capable hands and go get some sleep. I wouldn't give him any grief. You'll regret it."  
Crowley shrugged nonchalantly and lay back on the grabbed his stuff and left the room. Dean followed him, but paused in the doorway and looked back at Cas. For a fleeting moment he considered refusing to leave him alone with the demon, but the sight of Crowley raising an eyebrow and looking knowingly at the pair of them encouraged him to leave and shut the door behind him. There was a slight pause before he heard Cas lock it. While that wouldn't stop anything getting in, it would at least slow them down. Dean suddenly registered that he was standing staring at the door and turned on his heels to see Sam waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs. He hurried over to join him and the two of them headed up to the second floor. They headed in, dumped their stuff on the floor, locked the door and collapsed on the beds. Dean turned the light off and lay down on his side, eyes closed.

"Dean…" his brother's voice loomed out of the darkness.

Dean groaned and rolled over to face him, turning on the bedside light. "Yeah, Sammy?"  
"I was wondering…" Sam paused, unsure if there was a way he could word his question that Dean would actually answer it. "Is there something up with you an' Cas?"  
"Me and Cas?" Dean sounded bemused. "Why would you think there was something up?"

Sam somehow managed to shrug while lying on his side. "I don't know… It's just one minute you're having a go at him over something trivial and unimportant, and the next the two of you are frantically texting each other. It's weird."  
"The only thing wrong with me and Cas is that he's stubborn as a mule." Dean replied moodily.  
"Is this about the spell, or about something else?"

"I'm starting to wish I'd never found that damn spell!" Dean exclaimed. He froze. "I mean, Cas. I wish he'd never found it."  
Sam rolled his eyes. "Dean, I know you found it. Cas told me earlier."  
"Oh. What else did he tell you?"  
"He told me about the risks. And what you did."  
"Let me guess. You agree with him. You think I should have told him when I found it."  
Sam hesitated before replying. "Actually, I defended you."  
Dean sat up and looked at his brother in confusion. "Really?"  
Sam sat up too. "Oh, don't get me wrong, it should have been his choice to make. But I get why you did it. And hopefully he does too."  
Dean sighed. "It doesn't matter whether he does or not. He's done the spell now. And he keeps using his grace anyway."  
"That's why you've been panicking every time he's used his powers." Sam suddenly realised. "You're worried he's gonna burn himself out."  
"I have not been panicking!" Dean interjected.

"Is that what you were arguing about when me and Crowley got back from shopping?"  
There was a long silence. Sam had almost given up on Dean replying when he spoke up.

"Yeah. The stubborn little idiot doesn't seem to realise that having his wings back doesn't make him invincible. He never thinks this stuff through." Dean shook his head, remembering all the times Cas had made a choice that backfired drastically.

"Well, he did learn from a master of leaping without looking." Sam observed. "What was it he'd done anyway?"  
Dean clammed up, embarrassed.

"Come on Dean, it can't be that bad."

He scowled. "Fine. I slipped on a bar of soap going into the bathroom and got a sprained ankle and a touch of concussion. Nothing I couldn't handle. But of course, Cas healed me, because that's what he does. He helps people, even when it's the worst thing he could possibly do for himself."  
Sam raised an eyebrow. "We still talking about him healing you up? Or is this about something else?"  
Dean ran a hand through his hair, thinking. How the hell was he meant to answer that? Of course it was about Cas healing him. But it was also about the million other times Cas had risked his life to help them, and the fact that he'd never stop doing it. But there was no point rehashing the same old arguments. It wouldn't change Cas, and he wouldn't really want it to. So Dean just looked at Sam stoically and refused to answer.

Sam snorted. He should have known Dean wouldn't reply to that. "I just can't believe you slipped on a bar of soap."  
Dean scowled half-heartedly at him. "Shut up." he leaned over to turn off the light. "Go to sleep, Sammy."  
"Night, Dean."  
Dean rolled onto his front and closed his eyes, suddenly realising how tired he was. The nap in the car had helped, but he needed a few more hours to get battle-ready. His last thought as he drifted into unconsciousness was wondering how Cas was getting on with Crowley.


	7. Chapter 7

_Merry Christmas everyone! I've been so busy lately and I am so sorry for not publishing as often as I said I would, but I hope you enjoy this x_

Murder, Tonight, In The Trailer Park

Cas was actually sat on the bed, ignoring Crowley in favour of mentally checking not only the police radio frequencies but also angel radio. He jolted in surprise when the TV turned on and started flipping through channels, pausing on the news and continuing until it eventually stopped on a WWII documentary. Cas looked around wildly and spotted Crowley holding the remote. He didn't do anything at first - Crowley wasn't hurting anyone or being too annoying. Instead he closed his eyes.

"-stories of people dying on the trains to the death camps due to overcrowding-"

Crowley laughed.

Cas opened his eyes and turned his head to scowl at him.

"Come on wings, you've got to appreciate the irony."  
"I don't see anything amusing about genocide." Cas growled.

Crowley shrugged. "Suit yourself." he changed the channel again and managed to find an action movie. Cas relaxed a bit, until a woman on screen was brutally killed by some kind of monster and Crowley started cackling again.

"Turn it off."

"Or what, featherbrain?" Crowley smiled smugly. "Humpty and dumpty need me to find the gate for them. They won't be pleased if they wake up to find you've done me in."

Cas thought about this briefly. He looked at the smirk on Crowley's face. The demon thought he was untouchable? Well, Cas wasn't going to touch him.

There was a loud bang as the television screen shattered and it fell forward onto the floor. Crowley looked at the smoking remains, and then at Cas. Cas smirked, stood up, and got the final beer from the minibar. He'd just sat down when Crowley spoke up.

"Seeing as you've destroyed the television, could you provide me with an alternative source of entertainment?" Crowley asked bitterly. "A book perhaps."  
Cas closed his eyes and counted to ten before doing anything. Odd. When Sam had suggested Dean do this, he'd said it would calm him down, but it wasn't working. Equally, it hadn't seemed to work with Dean either. He opened his eyes again, put his beer to one side and checked the bedside table in case some helpful previous occupant had left any reading material. He found a small red book tucked at the back, pulled it out and tossed it on the bed next to Crowley.

"Here you go."  
Crowley picked it up and examined the cover. "You're joking." he said in disgust. "A Gideon's Bible?"  
Cas smiled happily and picked up his beer again. "Enjoy."  
Crowley glared at him yet again. Cas shrugged, kicked his shoes off and settled back on the bed. He stayed that way for a couple of hours, with only the sound of Crowley turning the pages of the Bible and the distant hum of traffic breaking the silence. Eventually a noise outside the door made both of them turn their heads. Cas picked up his angel blade from where he'd left it on the bed and opened the door enough to stick his head out. At first he wasn't sure where the noise had come from, but then he spotted four demons at the other end of the corridor. Unfortunately, they also spotted him. He slammed the door shut and attempted to get his phone out of his pocket to call Dean.

No signal.

Cas put it back in his pocket, grimacing, and swapped his angel blade back to his right hand just as the door burst open. Cas lunged forward and stabbed the first demon to come through. He whipped his arm out of the way as a demon on his left tried to grab it, pulled his blade out of the belly of the first demon and stabbed the next in the heart. He yanked it out and backed up as two more demons entered the room, stepping over the bodies that had crumpled to the floor as soon as the demons possessing them were gone. There was just enough time for him to wonder why neither of them pulled out an angel blade before the pair of them came at him. He jumped backwards, grabbed the wrist of the nearest demon and pulled it towards him, impaling it on his angel blade. He drew his arm back and the body fell to the floor. He turned to face the final demon, who seemed to realise that she'd made a terrible decision.

"Surrender?" Cas asked.

"Like hell!" the demon spat at him, remaining out of reach of the angel blade. She glanced at the door.

Cas put a hand out, and the door shut itself. "I'll let you go if you tell me why you were here."  
She laughed. "Oh, sure. Because your kind are so well known for keeping bargains with demons. Fat chance."  
"She makes a valid point."  
"Shut up, Crowley."  
The demon laughed again. "Crowley? Really?"  
"Did you not recognise your King?" Crowley asked angrily.

"We've never actually met. I've been busy staying off your radar. Demons in your inner circle seem to have a habit of not remaining demons for very long."  
Cas noticed her sidle towards the door and blocked her. "Why are you here then?"  
She shrugged. "Motels are full of people who won't be missed. We were just here for fun."  
"You're lying."  
"And you're going to kill me whatever I do."  
Cas was about to protest when she threw the knife she was holding at him and bolted for the door. He ignored the slight twinge in his shoulder and threw the angel blade, effectively stabbing her in the back. She slumped to the floor, a couple of feet away from the door. Cas pulled the knife out of his shoulder and inspected the damage. The wound was already healing, though his coat, jacket and shirt were all torn. And apart from the dead bodies, the motel room had come out relatively unscathed. He walked over, retrieved his angel blade and wiped it on the bedcovers before getting his phone out. Typically, it was now showing excellent signal. He signed, and tapped Dean's name on the recent contacts list.

"Cas?" Dean answered groggily. "What's up?"  
"There's been a...situation."  
Dean was instantly awake. "What happened? I'll be down in two seconds."

"Dean, I'm-" the phone cut out. "-fine."

Cas sat down on the bed and waited. Within a few minutes the door flew open and two Winchesters entered, guns out, looking around for something to shoot at. When they spotted the pile of dead bodies on the floor, they lowered their guns and shut the door behind them. Dean looked at the trenchcoat-clad figure sat on the bed.

"Damnit, Cas." he swore. "What happened?"

Cas stood up and turned to face him. "I heard a disturbance in the corridor so I opened the door to investigate. There were some demons."  
There was a long silence, but Cas didn't elaborate.

"And?" Sam prompted.

"They attacked."  
"And you didn't think maybe you should call me?" Dean asked through gritted teeth.

"I tried. I had no signal. Besides, I was a bit busy defending myself against the four demons breaking down the door."  
Dean looked at the defiant expression on Cas' face. He heard Sam offer to help clear up when he spotted the rip in Cas' trenchcoat.

"Did one of them get you?" he asked, staring at the torn fabric.

Cas looked down at his shoulder. "She threw a knife. It's nothing."  
"And you didn't mention this before because..?"  
"Dean, I'm fine. It's already healed."  
"Let me see."  
"It's fine, Dean."

Dean narrowed his eyes. "You always say that, and you're never fine. Show me."  
"Fine!"  
Sam gave his brother a weird look. "Is this really necessary? He says he's fine."

Dean glared and he shut up. By this time Cas had slipped off his trenchcoat and jacket and dumped them unceremoniously on the bed. He loosened his tie and started to unbutton his shirt. When he'd undone a half the buttons he pulled it to one side so that Dean could inspect the damage. Dean took a few steps towards him and looked at it critically. There was nothing. Not a scratch. He looked at Cas, who seemed oddly happy considering he'd just been in a fight. Dean swallowed and stepped back.

"Oh."  
"I told you. Cas is back in town." he started doing up his shirt again.

Dean avoided his brother's eyes, but didn't miss the smirk on his face.

"Excellent." Crowley said from his seat on the bed, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "So glad to have a fully fledged angel on board."

Dean rounded on him. "You'd better be glad he's fine. If your demons had-"

"-My demons?" Crowley interrupted. "Mine? Do you really think I'd send a bunch of half-wit demons with no proper weaponry to bust me out? Not one of them had an angel blade."  
"He's right." Sam pointed out, inspecting the bodies. "And they can't have been particularly skilled fighters or Cas would have had to resort to smiting. If they can't even vaguely hurt one angel they're definitely small fry."

Dean ignored his logic, choosing to scowl at Crowley instead. "Even if you didn't send them, you probably led them here."  
Crowley scoffed." Me? Listen to moose, squirrel. These were nobodies. I like to think that anyone aiming to capture me would have the sense to bring some decent weapons. And not send a bunch of non-functional idiots who dear Castiel bested in two minutes flat."

Dean didn't respond. He looked anywhere but at his brother or the demon, his eyes falling on Cas. Looking at him, he realised that while Cas had buttoned his shirt back up and put his jacket and coat over it, his tie was still loose. He rolled his eyes and went to straighten it, earning a grateful look from Cas.

"Besides," said Crowley snidely, giving them a pointed look, "you weren't exactly discreet at that diner yesterday."  
Dean's head snapped round. He heard Sam laugh before hastily disguising it as a cough, and glared at Crowley who just smiled vindictively.

"I suppose we were out in the open for longer than necessary…" Cas mused. "It is possible that some demons picked up our trail then. But I got the impression that these demons were in the area anyway and found us purely by chance."  
Crowley shook his head in despair. Dean, however, smiled in Cas' direction briefly. He was very glad Crowley's dig had gone straight over Cas' head. Still, he'd get Crowley back for that at some point. He heard Sam stifle another laugh and shifted his gaze to look stonily at him.

"I'll head outside. We've gotta burn the bodies, so… you guys can pass them out the window to me." Sam suggested, heading for the door.

Cas looked at Dean. "I could-"  
"-No." Dean shot him down. "You're not zapping them up to Alaska to feed the bears or whatever your plan was. We do this our way."

Cas raised his eyebrows at Dean. "I was actually going to offer to break the Devil's trap so Crowley could help us move the bodies."  
"Not bloody likely!"  
Dean looked at Crowley. "Don't tell me you're squeamish. You're the King of rotten. You've seen plenty of dead bodies. Stop being a wuss."  
"I can't very well help you carry bodies with these on, can I." Crowley held out his hands, indicating the cuffs he was wearing.

"They aren't coming off." Sam stated before leaving the room.

"No." Dean agreed. "But I do know a job you can do perfectly well with them on. You can hold the window open."  
"Such responsibility." Crowley faked an expression of shock.

Cas shot him a distrustful look, and ripped the bedsheet to break the Devil's trap. Crowley stood up and made a big show of stretching out his muscles. Dean and Cas ignored him and picked the first body up, Dean tutting impatiently when Crowley took a while to open the window. Luckily, Sam was already waiting. Soon enough all the bodies were outside in a pile, being covered in petrol and salt by Sam. Dean left Cas watching Crowley and went to grab his and Sam's things from the other room. It was just getting light when they left the keys at the desk and met Sam at the car. Dean threw him a jacket he'd left in their rush to help Cas and then the four of them climbed in.


	8. Chapter 8

Black Dog

"Right. We're about four hours out of Manhattan, plus traffic." Dean pulled out of the motel and headed back onto the highway. "I vote we get half that way before we stop for some fuel."  
Sam shrugged. "Fine with me. I could do with some coffee before we get there, but apart from that we should just get driving."  
Dean found an appropriate radio station and set it playing low. He didn't want to give Crowley an excuse to gripe, but wanted to be able to hear the news. He breathed a sigh of relief when there was no immediate objection. He settled down to drive and managed twenty miles of peace before Crowley interrupted.

"Don't suppose there's a chance of some in-flight entertainment?"

Sam laughed. "Oh, sure. Let's play I-spy." he said sarcastically. "I spy with my little eye, something beginning with 'R'."  
"Road."  
Sam looked at his brother. "Yeah." he waited. "Well, your go, Dean."  
Dean looked back at him. "Seriously?" he saw Sam nod, and responded by groaning and rolling his eyes. "Fine. I spy with my little eye, something beginning with… 'C'."

"Car." Crowley answered from behind Dean, who nodded.

"I'm not sure I understand the game."  
Dean sighed and looked at Cas in the rearview mirror. "It's pretty simple. You look out the window, pick something, say what letter it starts with and everyone else guesses."  
Cas nodded.

"For example, I spy with my little eye, something beginning with 'C'." Crowley prompted.

"Car."  
Crowley looked at him with mock concern. "Did they kick you out of the nest as a fledgling?"  
Cas scowled back. "'C' was car."  
"Yes. That was last time. I wouldn't do the same as him, that would be obvious."  
"Oh."  
Dean sighed. "Cloud?"  
"Correct."

"You get it, Cas?"  
Cas considered this. "I believe so."  
Dean spotted his brother biting his lip trying not to laugh. He started another round as a distraction. "I spy with my little eye, something beginning with 'H'."  
"Hellhound?"  
Dean swerved in panic, nearly crashing into a motorbike overtaking them. He kept one hand on the steering wheel and pulled the demon-killing knife out of his pocket. "Where's the damn hellhound, Crowley? How the hell did you call it?"

Crowley cracked up laughing. Dean put the knife away, realising he'd been had.

"The look on your face!" Crowley burst out, continuing to laugh.

"That wasn't funny." Dean said through gritted teeth.

"Was too."  
"Was not." Sam retorted.

Crowley managed to hold a straight face briefly. "Come on Samantha, don't pretend his reaction wasn't priceless."  
Cas punched him hard enough that he was knocked sideways into the window.

"No appreciation of humour." complained Crowley, rubbing his jaw. "Sometimes I wonder why I bother with you lot."  
"You're welcome not to bother in future." Cas told him, debating punching him again.

Sam laughed. Dean ignored them all and changed up a gear, continuing down the road in silence. The only noise for a while was the sound of Motorhead playing quietly and Crowley sighing dramatically. Cas stared out the window, avoiding looking at the demon. Suddenly he frowned.

"What was it, Dean?"  
"What was what?"  
"The thing beginning with 'H'."  
There was a bit of a hesitation before Sam spoke up. "Why don't you have a guess, Cas?"  
Cas considered for a while.

"Hat?"

"Where the hell did you see a hat?" Dean asked, looking around.

"There was a man driving in the other direction wearing one."

"Yeah… It's not that."

Cas looked slightly disappointed, but kept thinking.

"Hotel?" Crowley suggested. "Hospital? The 'help' we all so desperately need?"  
"Surprisingly, it was none of those things." Dean told him.

"House?"  
"Yup. Well done, Cas. Your go."  
Cas smiled in Dean's direction. "I spy with my little eye, something beginning with 'D'."  
"Dean." Dean immediately guessed.

Cas frowned. "No. You said I had to pick something outside the car. You're inside the car."

"We could throw him out." Crowley suggested. "Then you could pick him." he smiled evilly.

"Or we could throw you out." Sam replied, looking back at him. "Then the rest of us could have an infinitely better time."  
Crowley made an offended noise, but Dean spoke over him. "Diner?" he asked Cas.

"No…"  
"Destiel?" Sam said quietly.

Dean glared at him. "Shut up."  
"What d'you say, moose?"  
Sam looked warily at his brother, who drew a finger across his throat. Sam got the message. "Nothing. Um… Driver?"  
"No."

"Denial? Daddy issues? Disaster waiting to happen?"  
"No." growled Cas.

"I think we give up, Cas." said Sam. "I definitely do."  
Crowley coughed derisively. "I gave up a long time ago."  
There was a bit of a pause before Dean too admitted that he didn't have a clue what Cas had spotted.

"Nice one. You've got us all stumped." Sam said, amused. "What was it?"  
"A dog. We passed one in a car."  
Dean sighed, smiling to himself. "Cas, it tends to help if it's something the rest of us are gonna be able to spot."  
"Oh. I'm sorry."  
"It's fine, Cas."  
"How about we stop playing." Sam suggested.

Crowley nodded in agreement. "I think that's probably all the in-car games I can cope with."

Dean turned up the radio as he heard the news start. There was all the usual stuff, plus a side comment about unexpected clouds gathering over New York City. Crowley coughed and muttered something about having 'told them so'. Finally they heard a traffic warning that the way into the city was almost at a standstill thanks to some moron not strapping their cargo of used tyres down probably. Dean groaned. That could take hours to clear, it might almost be worth going round and heading in another way. He suggested this to Sam, who disagreed.

"Sure, that might help us avoid this pile up. But by the time we get there it'll probably be gone anyway. So we'll have gone round the moon and extended the journey for no reason."  
"Does potentially save us from sitting in a queue of traffic with Crowley though."  
Sam nodded, conceding that Dean had a valid point. Crowley gave them an injured look.

"I think that's unjust. What would I do in stationary traffic that I couldn't do when we're driving?"  
"Jump out and run off?" Sam replied, with an air of stating the obvious.

Crowley grinned. "Is that a challenge?" He started reaching for the door handle.

In a flash, Cas had grabbed the chain between Crowley's handcuffs and pulled him out of reach of the door. There was a small scuffle as Cas attempted to extract his angel blade to threaten Crowley and Crowley attempted to get away from Cas. At first Dean tried to ignore it, but when he saw Cas' eyes flash light blue with angel grace he couldn't stop himself from interfering.

"Hey!" he interrupted. "Enough! Crowley, go sit on your side of the car. And if you open that door, so help me-"  
"-You'll what?" Crowley asked confidently. "Kill me? I think we can all agree you're not going to do that. You'd have done it already if you were going to. No, Dean. You're not going to kill me."

Dean shrugged. "Maybe you're right. Maybe I won't kill you." he paused. "But I'm damn sure Cas will. Now, I'm just spitballing here….but I'm thinking maybe you should stop pissing him off."  
He glanced in the rearview mirror to see Cas smile at Crowley. To anyone else, he would have looked serene, and not at all capable of murder. It was only because Dean knew him so well that he spotted the glint in Cas' eyes that said he wouldn't hesitate. Honestly, if Cas had been looking at him like that he'd probably be running away as quickly as possible. He was definitely at his most dangerous when he was calm. There was a long tense pause before Crowley raised his hands and scooted back to his side of the car. Cas looked at him with suspicion, but he did nothing.

"Sensible choice." Sam said to Crowley. He turned up the radio and settled back.

"...Heat of the moment!..." Asia blared out.

Sam jumped out of his skin before leaping forward and almost breaking the stereo in his rush to turn it off. Dean knew better than to laugh.

Crowley, on the other hand, didn't. "That has got to be the most extreme reaction I've ever seen to Asia. Am I sensing a story?"  
No one paid him any attention, apart from Cas, and his only reaction was to look somewhat befuddled.

"Oh come on. It can't be anything worse than what I already know about you two. I've read the-" he fell silent, and a look of dawning comprehension came over his face, followed by an evil grin.

Sam spotted him. "Don't say it." he warned.

"The Supernatural books." Crowley smiled maliciously. "I remember now. The second time you met the 'trickster' and he killed Dean a hundred or so times."  
"The trickster?" Cas asked. "You mean…"  
"Gabriel." Dean clarified. "We met him a couple of times before meeting you. Didn't know he was an angel back then of course."

There was silence.

Cas broke it. "He….killed you?"  
Dean smiled and shook his head. "Only temporarily. He was trying to make a point."  
"What point?" Cas asked, frowning.

Sam sighed. "It was after Dean sold his soul. He was trying to prove to me that I couldn't save him." he thought about that for a moment, then smiled. "He was right. I couldn't. But you did, so I guess it turned out okay in the end."  
"Apart from accidentally starting the apocalypse." Dean pointed out.

Sam laughed. "Yeah, apart from that."  
Again, there was a temporary lull in the conversation. And again, it was terminated by Cas speaking up.

"What's the relevance to the song?"  
Sam's face fell as he remembered. "It's how I woke up. Every time Dean died, I woke up, and it was Tuesday again, and that damn song was playing on the radio."  
"I'm sorry." Cas eventually responded.

Sam turned to face him. "Don't be. It's not your fault. Besides, it was years ago. And he's probably dead now anyway."  
Cas didn't say anything. He simply added killing Dean multiple times to the list of things he'd ask Gabriel about if he ever found him alive. He'd thought he was dead, but then he'd turned up, claiming to have been in hiding. He knew it was probably just one of Metatron's tricks...but a small part of him still hoped to find Gabriel alive. Even if currently he wanted to kill him for doing that to Dean just to make a point. It had evidently traumatised Sam as well, and it took a lot to make a Winchester have that strong a reaction. But it was killing Dean repeatedly that made Cas unsure that he'd forgive Gabriel if he did ever find him again. That and the fact that he'd potentially been working with Metatron.

Sam turned back and hesitantly turned the radio back on. He breathed a sigh of relief when he heard Motorhead playing. Something to get that damn song out of his head. Crowley, contrary as usual, didn't seem to be enjoying the music change. He was staring glumly out of the window, watching the miles fly by. Sam wondered nervously what he was thinking about. Cas also seemed lost in thought. Probably remembering his brother, Sam assumed. His own feelings towards the archangel were mixed. On the one hand, he'd made him watch Dean die countless times and be powerless to stop it, and chucked the pair of them into a load of tv shows. On the other...well, he had died trying to take down Lucifer for them. He could respect that, even if he still wasn't a massive fan of the guy.


End file.
